


River and Beckett

by stargate4lyfe



Category: Original - Fandom
Genre: AU-slavery, BDSM, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Collars, F/M, Forced infantilism, Institutionalized slavery, M/M, Master/Slave, Mistress/slave, Multi, Original Characters - Freeform, Parent/Child Incest, Sex Slave, Slave Training, Slavery, Torture, Violence, Vomiting, Watersports, but definitely rape, consent can't be had because slavery, forced bondage, sounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8145239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargate4lyfe/pseuds/stargate4lyfe
Summary: In a world where orphans are taken by the government and forced into slavery, siblings River and Beckett end up as sex slaves at a government slave training facility. It's hell until a private trainer comes to purchase River, and Beckett convinces the man to take him as well. Now, conditions are a little better, but they're still slaves, and they still haven't been purchased by permanent masters.





	1. Chapter 1

River

Clutching Beck’s hand, I stepped forward, my attention glued to the scene before me. The smoke made my eyes water, and I knew distantly that I was coughing. His other hand was on my back, trying to shush me, to get me to breathe.

“It’s going to be okay.” He whispered. “We’re going to be okay.”

My brother was lying to me.

The Guard was there, along with the Fire Men. The flames were under control but smoke still billowed out consistently in giant, steady grey streams. “What about these two?” I heard a guard ask another.

“No other family.” The other shook his head, glancing down at the report. My heart sunk, having spent the morning praying they would find some distant aunt or cousin to take us in, and I leaned in close to Beckett so we were now holding one another, watching our family home burn to the ground, our parents and younger sister with it. I don’t know why, but Beck and I had woken to find Lila had been suffocated, our mother the same, and our father’s throat slit. Beck and I had already been tested, and the Guard was sure we’d been poisoned with sedative the night before, the attacker certain we would sleep through it all. By the time I’d discovered Lila not breathing, and Beck had come to tell me our parents were gone as well, the smoke was drifting up around us. We’d used the rope from my hammock to escape from my second story window onto the stone road below. But with my parents gone, and us both being minors, I knew that Lila may have been the lucky one.

Beck was eighteen, I was fifteen. The age of adulthood was twenty-five. We had years to go before we were allowed to make our own decisions, and with no family to take us in, the Guard had only one thing to do with us.

The man appeared before me. “We’re going now. Are you going to be good or are you going to cause trouble?” he looked at each of us. I closed my eyes and began sobbing harder, my face pressed into my brother’s shirt. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he took a deep breath and then a gentle tug of his shoulders as he shook his head. “We won’t be any trouble.”

I watched sideways as one guard nodded and looked up at the guard who had been standing with us. Reaching out, he handed him a rope with a loop on the end, and kept one for himself. They each placed the loops over our heads and tightened them around our necks, my guard taking care to pull my long, strawberry blonde hair out of the binding. Beck helped them pry me off of himself, and I sniffled but obeyed. They weren’t separating us yet. Just making it easier for us to walk, to follow without any ideas of escape. Honestly, the leash, as humiliating as it was, was a blessing. It took away any ideas of fighting, of running off. While I didn’t dare touch the rope, my eyes caught a glimpse of Beckett testing it when they turned around. But once tightened, the knot wouldn’t loosen without being untied, and there was no way the watchful gaze of the Guard would miss that or feel the tug needed to loosen it.

I never let go of Beck’s arm as they led us down the street.

We were going to the Minor’s House. I’d never thought much of it before, where kids were taken once their parents passed. The only family I’d ever known to loose their parents was the Danir’s, and one of their middle sons were friends with Beck. Not best friends, but close. The kids had been taken off to the Minor’s House, and it took Beck and his best friend Scotty months to track Wil Danir down. He’d been sold to a woman a town over. She was kind, purchasing him as her stable boy, letting him live in the warm loft above the horses, ensuring he had plenty of food and comfort. Even allowing him hours to catch up with his friends. But seeing Beck’s face when he returned from visiting terrified me. It was Scotty who told me what they’d discovered. The collar and cuffs with the symbols of his mistress’s house around his neck, wrists, and ankles. The brand on the small of his back, marking him as a slave of Ilana, shining through the hole in the back of his red tunic, the color of his mistress’ house.

He’d been blessed, my father told Beck and Scotty, when Beck had managed to return to our living room, where Scotty sat in tears. He seemed to be cared for. That was all a slave could hope for: care.

I’d known other slaves. They worked in my school, at my favorite shops and restaurants. My friends’ families had owned some, even we had a slave. Vanessa, purchased before I’d been born to help take care of Beck. She’d been ten then, thirteen when I first opened my eyes to this world. I’d grown up with her bathing me, helping me dress when my mother was unable to. Cooking our meals, helping us clean our rooms. My parents had been kind to her, even allowing her to sit at our table and eat with us when we didn’t have guests.

While my mother had been wonderful, tucking us in, teaching us to cook, comforting us on stormy nights, but she’d also been an equal partner in my father’s business, and it was difficult for them both to work full time and raise three children. We understood, not caring when Vanessa was there to pick us up from school, not disappointed when Vanessa was the one to stand along the back wall of the theater at my plays, carefully videoing every second for my parents to watch with me the second they returned from their trip. She was beautiful, with flawless skin and dark black hair that fell long past her shoulders. We all loved her, my parents as well. They gave her gifts often, celebrated her birthday, including her in holidays. The gifts would never be allowed to leave our house, to go with her to a new master if she was to be sold, but she was still allowed their enjoyment in her small slave room, off the end of our bedroom hallway.

Four years ago, my parents’ business had fallen deep into debt, and an offer came from a close friend to give them more than enough money to climb out on top, with the exception that the friend be given a small portion of the company, not even controlling interest, and Vanessa. After a lot of thought, they had to come to the agreement that Vanessa was still a slave, and they needed to provide for their family, so they sat her down one afternoon and told her about the offer. It wasn’t really formulated as a question, ultimately they had the final say and Van knew that. But she nodded, understanding and promising that she was okay with it, even knowing that it didn’t really matter what she thought. My parents were kind enough to listen and to thank her for being so easy about it all. All of us, even Vanessa, knew that if she’d objected in any way, my parents would have scratched the deal and figured something else out, but Van knew that this was what was best for our family. She loved us that much. She trusted my parents that much. So they sold her. We’d been crushed, but their friend promised we would be able to see her, and he kept his promise. Each birthday, holiday, and a few random days we had free, she’d been allowed to visit. Each time she was healthy and happy, obviously well cared for, her only twinge of sadness came when it was time for her to go. Each time my parents seemed nearly as distraught as we did, but Vanessa kept her expression strong and smiled brightly as us all, promising to return as soon as her master allowed her. Which we all knew wouldn’t be too far off in the distance.

But not all slaves were treated with the same kindness that Vanessa and Wil had been treated with.

We were at the Minor’s House before I had a chance to ready myself, and Beck squeezed my hand to remind me that he was still there… wasn’t leaving me.

It was a tall, grey, block building made of cement, and it looked like every other government building in the city; like an office, not a home for orphans. Not that we’d be staying long.

They led us into the front reception area, another sterile, cold environment with a bored-looking receptionist sitting behind a desk. We stopped in front of her and stood silently as the guards attempted to flirt. “Beckett and River Donovan.” One of them gave her a little half smile. It was a miracle I was noticing anything but the sound of my heart pounding.

She typed in our names and nodded. “Found them.” She clicked a few more buttons, and then the whir of a printer spat out two labels. I caught a glimpse of barcodes as she passed them over, and she pointed to the door to her right. “Room 17 is open.”

“Thanks, Doll.” One of the men smiled, and she continued to ignore him.

They tugged gently on our ropes and we followed them, me realizing that this very well might be where we parted ways. Forever? But then my mind calmed. She’d named only one room, not two. Still, what would be done in that room? Was there a fire raging, an iron setting inside, the glow of the slave brand waiting to mar our skin? Would our clothes be removed, our faces burning with humiliation?

But no. After the long walk down a hallway, and the clicking of a lock being unlocked, they pushed the door open and all I found was a small room with two beds and a door off to the side. One of them ushered us in and removed our ropes, while the other slide our bar codes into a plastic sleeve on the door, just like a file at a doctors office. We were here, in Room 17, waiting to be told our diagnosis.

They turned to us with a finality about them. This was the end of the road for them. “Take a shower, get dressed, and a counselor will be here when you’re done.” They shut the door behind themselves, the click of the lock once more upon my ears.

I could feel Beckett’s eyes burning a hole in my scalp, preparing himself for the hysterics I was about to display. But I didn’t feel like crying, or like screaming, or even like thinking. I just wanted to sit down on the bed and curl up in the blanket, so I gently tugged my hand from his and did just that. He swallowed, his eyes never leaving me, and once he saw that I’d settled, my brother took a deep breath. In the true fashion of an oldest child, he seemed eager to accomplish the task he’d been encouraged to do. That or he was itching for a shower, which was also very well likely. “Will you be okay?” he asked me, softly. With what? My new life? No. but I knew what he meant, so I nodded, then forced myself to look up at him. To not leave him alone in the real world while I wandered off into a fantasy land. That wasn’t fair. “Yeah. Go shower, put on clean clothes, whatever. I’ll go after you.”

He seemed relieved with all of my decisions over the past minute, and the fact that I was even making them instead of forcing him to make them for me, that I was walking and he wasn’t having to carry me. Not that he wouldn’t do any of those things – his strength as an older sibling had always been something to admire. But I could relieve him of that duty for just a few minutes. He needed time for himself as much as I needed him for me.

Beckett stepped through the door, flipped on a light, and then cracked the door, not quite willing to leave me completely alone. I heard a steady stream of water as he relieved himself. The scrubbing of him washing his hands and brushing his teeth. The louder rush of water as he showered. He took his time, but I didn’t blame him. And when he returned, wearing a fresh tunic, I swallowed.

“They don’t have belts in there. Or razors. Or anything that you could… hurt yourself with.” He wasn’t telling me because either of us had been considering it. He was simply stating what he and his overactive brain had noticed.

I nodded, completely unaware that I was doing so.

“You ready?” he asked me, carefully. He was ready for the dam to break any second, but I wasn’t. I nodded again, this time completely with it. Standing on my own, I stepped past him and into the bathroom, shutting the door. I could handle this on my own.

Each task was done mechanically, as though someone else was controlling me. My parents were gone. Lilia was gone. Beck and I had no one to take care of us, so we’d become the property of the government. Too bad Vanessa wasn’t free. She’d be perfect for the job. Vaguely, I wondered if we could request to be purchased by her master. He was a family friend, a kind man, but most importantly, he owned my third caretaker.

But right now, my forth caretaker was waiting in the bedroom, probably pacing with worry every second I was away from him, so I turned on the shower and shed my clothes, placing them in the dirty laundry bin. I knew they’d be thrown away, probably, but I didn’t care. Even if they were the only thing I still had of my old life, they were covered in blood and soot, and I had no desire to cling to them. And while I willed the water and soap to wash away the horrors, to wash away my old life even to prepare me for my new one, nothing changed. Nothing faded away but the physical evidence of the fire.

A few minutes later I was standing outside of the shower, wrapped in a warm towel, frowning. The water was off. When had I gotten out? When had I grabbed a towel? Who turned off the water?

Beck was nowhere in sight, so it must have been me. Had I blacked out? Lost consciousness?

Never mind. I reached into the closet and found a white tunic, just like Becks, and slid it on. It stopped just above my knees, the short sleeves sticking out just by my shoulders. We weren’t adults yet, so we couldn’t wear pants or long dresses. No boots or sleeves. Only short tunics, sandals, and cloaks when it became cold. The uniform of an Ilanian child. The only things that set us apart from slaves were our shoes, the lack of a hole in the back of our tunic showing off the slave brand, and our bare necks, wrists, and ankles. For now.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Beck looked up at me, stunned. His eyes were red, his face blotchy and wet, his nose sniffling, his skin pale. His expression wasn’t one of embarrassment, only one of sorrow. He didn’t care that I saw him that way, he was only sad that the same horrors happened to him were happening to me. I walked over and sat down beside him on the bed, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning my face against his chest. He buried his tears in my hair and continued to sob quietly. But I couldn’t bring myself to join him. I was still frozen.


	2. Chapter 2

After a short while, his crying ceased, and he pulled away, letting me continue to hug him but no longer using me for support. He wiped his face and took a few long, deep breaths. I looked up at him and nodded. He nodded back. We were okay. 

The door opened, and a short, plump woman with a very kind face covered in a bit too much make up stepped in, shutting the door behind her. “Hi kids.” Her tone was kind, firm, and understanding all at once. “Why don’t we take a seat?” she gestured to the table in the corner, and we stood up and met her there, each sliding into a seat and sitting. In her hand she held a binder, and as she sat, she laid it on the table, opening it and looking up at us. 

“If it’s alright with you two, I’d like to go over a few things.” 

It took us a second, but we both nodded. I was pretty sure that she would go over a few things even if it wasn’t alright with us. 

“Are you hungry?” 

I shook my head at the same time Beck did. 

“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind and I’ll call down to have something brought up. Now,” her tone remained ever gentle, and she gave us a soft smile. “I’m incredibly sorry for your loss. In times like this, with a lack of family, children are turned over to the government to be cared for. Which means that your wellbeing is in the hands of us. Do you know what happens to government children?” she asked, gently. 

“Sold.” Was all Beck could get out. 

“That’s right. To Owners. They make you their slave, place you under their care. You will remain a slave until your twenty fifth birthday, at which time the Slaver’s Department will assess whether or not you are equipped to take care of yourself as a free man or woman. If they determine you are not, you will remain a slave for the remainder of your life. If they determine you are, your master or mistress is still allowed to choose whether or not to give you your freedom. After all, they spend more time with you, know you better than we do. You will never know the results of our assessment, unless they free you, of course, to protect your relationship with your owner.” She cleared her throat and then continued. “While there are strict Slaver’s Department guidelines on proper treatment of child slaves, those rules only apply to children…” 

Her voice seemed to go in and out; I was having trouble concentrating. 

“…of you qualify, so you are considered Older Slaves. You have no rights. However,” she slid over a piece of paper, “here are the rights and rules of your owner.” I read over them with blurry vision as she vocalized them. “1. Your slave belongs to you alone. Any harm done to them by another’s hand is damage to your property, and if they take your slave, that is theft. 2. Slaves are allowed to be freed on one occasion alone: their twenty-fifth birthday with the consent of the Slaver’s Department after their assessment. Otherwise, slaves are not to be freed anytime during their life. 3. Slaves must be cuffed and collared at all times, even in the comfort of home. Cuffs and Collars may be chosen by the owners, but all must be locked and slaves may not be able or be given the means to unlock them, break them off, or cut through them. Each cuff must have rings for leashes and restraints, sex slaves must have collar rings as well. 4. Slaves must be respectful of other Free Men and Women, nor may they disobey any order. It falls upon the owners to protect their slaves from unwanted attention. If a slave requires punishment from another Free Man or Woman, and the owner of the slave does not agree or they cannot agree on a punishment, the Slaver’s Department will make a final decision. 5. Any runaway slaves will be punished by the Slaver’s Department. The punishment is two lashes per year of the slaves’ life, doubled for each runaway attempt. Punishers will do everything in their power to not mar the slave unless it is the wish of the owner. 6. Slaves may be punished and killed by their owner after the age of twenty five with no consequence to the owner. Before the age of twenty five, slaves may not be killed. Any owner believing that their slave deserves death may come to the Department and a judge will decide. Punishment limits to Minors are outlined in the next page. See also “Withholding food and water”.” I swallowed as she went on. “7. Any slave in public unaccompanied by their owner must have a Pass attached to their collar. Sex slaves outside the home must be leashed by the collar. 8. Slaves may not wear any clothing outside of their master’s home that is not a regulation Slave Tunic. Clothing inside the home that deviates from this is only for sexual and fetish purposes. Sex Slaves are not required to be naked in public, however it is recommended, as are chastity devices.” 

I could see Beck wince at that one, even though he’d hardly blinked when he’d been told his owner was welcome to withhold food from him. I knew why. I’d seen more than a few male slaves with cages around their privates, plugs in their butts with chains keeping them in places. Even Vanessa had been given a women’s chastity belt to wear in public when she wasn’t with my parents, for her own protection, my father had said. Once, when my parents had been out of town, she’d called them for permission to run to the store to fetch medicine for a very sick Beckett. She’s forgotten to wear her belt and when she returned, she seemed upset. It was months later that I found out that not protecting herself had been a horrible mistake, and one she never made again. After that, I understood that those safeguards were just that: safeguards… not a cruel punishment as I’d once thought. At least not for all owners. 

The lady continued down the list, but I wasn’t listening. I’d once again retreated to my family’s living room. My father was playing the piano with Lilia. My mother was playing chess with me. Beckett and Vanessa were scowling at his homework. 

“River?”

I shook my head and looked up at the woman. Beck’s arm wrapped around me, and he prompted me, softly. “Do you understand?” 

“Yeah.” I whispered. 

Her look told me that she didn’t believe me, but she continued anyway. “The next forty eight hours are going to be the most meaningful of your life. Until lunch tomorrow, you will remain in this room. You may bathe, use the bathroom of your own accord, wear clothes, sleep, cry, talk to one another, comfort one another…” she gave us a small smile and then passed us each a blank sheet of paper and a marker. “This is your meal list. Write down what you would like for dinner tonight, and for breakfast and lunch tomorrow. Anything in the world, and it will be brought to you. After lunch tomorrow, your will be separated, but only for a short while. You will have your surgeries…” she gave us each a look to make sure we understood. A sob caught in my throat, and Beck squeezed my hand tightly. My mother had told me about this. How slaves were sterilized when they hit puberty, or if they had already hit it. Freedom or no, Beck and I would never reproduce. The Donovan line ended with us. We both nodded, and she went on, “When you wake tomorrow morning, you will be prepared for the Trainer’s Auction. Do you know what that is?” 

Beck didn’t move, but I shook my head. 

“Before a slave can be sold, it must go through a minimum of three months training. While the training is most often done at a government facility, there are certified trainers out there who run things privately, but who may not take on more than one trainee at a time. Before you are placed in a facility, Private Trainers have the option to purchase you for themselves. They might be looking for a specific slave for a client, or simply for a new project. Either way, they get first dibs. During the auction, you will be naked in stalls. We only have a few new children for tomorrow, so it will be short. If you are not purchased, you will be taken to the facility. For a minimum of three months, probably more, you will be trained and eventually sold. As a slave, the government expects you to be on your best behavior, to obey your owners without question, and to honor their decision on your twenty fifth birthday. Am I understood?” 

We both nodded. 

“Last word of advice…” her expression became softer than the careful demeanor she’d been holding. “Many kids are so devastated by the loss of their family that it’s all a whirlwind. And then one day they wake up and they’re a slave and they almost don’t know how they got there. I’ve found that the ones who prolong their grief… wait a few weeks to break down with their trainer there to help them process… those are the ones who end up okay.”   
Beck’s neck tensed, and he spoke his first real words. “How is any of this okay?” 

I don’t think he knew he said it out loud. 

She gave him a light touch on the hand. “It’s not going to be easy. But you’re good kids. Clean records. Good families. Keep to your manners and who knows? Maybe when you’re twenty five you’ll get lucky.” She gave me a soft smile and then sat up straight. “Now. Write down your meals and I’ll see you tomorrow before the auction.” 

But I couldn’t move. I’d been strong until then, but I couldn’t move. They were going to take Beckett away, and I couldn’t move. 

He wrote it down for me, my favorite foods. Asked me to look at it. Told me I might never get whatever I wanted again. To afford the small pleasure. 

I didn’t care. He knew me best anyway. 

We sat in silence for hours. Ate our dinners without conversation. And eventually went to sleep, a deep and thankfully dreamless sleep. But that must have been all the recouping Beck needed, because I woke the next morning with a start to him shaking me gently. “Morning, sunshine.” 

“Morning.” I muttered. 

The smell of our breakfast wafted over to me and I glanced to the side, seeing the French toast, waffles, bacon, eggs… 

“Not that I’m trying to make any decisions for you,” he held up his hands, “however, we wallowed yesterday, and if today is the last day I get to spend with my little sister, I want it to count. So let’s get up, let’s get ready, let’s eat, let’s talk, let’s laugh, let’s play games, let’s share memories, let’s cry… but let’s not sleep and ignore one another.” 

Sounded like a plan to me, so I nodded and sat up, slowly. He smiled at me. “Great.” 

With a yawn, I shuffled over to the bathroom. Peed. Brushed my teeth. Showered. Dressed in white. And then I returned, sitting down in front of our feast. We didn’t pretend that the past twenty four hours hadn’t happened, but we did decide that we were going to make the best of all of this. 

“Remember that time we came home from school when Lilia was five, and Mom and Van were gone and Dad had fallen asleep and Lil had managed to get glitter in every inch of the dining room?” Beck laughed, and I did too. 

“Or when Mom accidentally left all of her expense reports for the entire year in a stack in the kitchen and Lilia managed to make snowflakes from every single sheet before anyone noticed?” I went on, cracking up. 

“I miss Van.” He shook his head. “She would’ve never let either of those things happen.” 

“Well, she would have let there be glitter and snowflakes, just not in a bad way.” I smiled. “I wish she was here with us. She’d know what to say. What to do…” I took a deep breath. 

“She’s gonna go crazy when she finds out. Beg him to buy us.” 

He met my look, knowing what I was thinking. Van and her new master had moved away last year. It took three days on the train to get to them. Mom had taken us once. By the time word reached them that our parents were gone, we’d be with a trainer, lost in the system. And if he did manage to find us, there was no guarantee we hadn’t already been purchased for another. 

For hours we sat in that room, munching, reminiscing, telling funny old tales we both knew by heart, talking about the past, but never the future. And then, around noon, lunch arrived. And we knew that this was it. The air turned somber as the men walked in, set down our lunch, ferried away our breakfast, and left. 

“I wanted to be a doctor.” I looked up at Beck, after staring down at my homemade mac n’ cheese. “I hadn’t told you guys yet, but I’d started thinking about it. Going to school for it. Instead of just a nurse.” 

Pain flickered across his face for almost a moment before he controlled it. “The hospital is always purchasing slaves. You can talk to your trainer about it.” He told me, gently.   
Then, he realized that he didn’t actually know what he was talking about, and shrugged. “Maybe.” 

I tried taking a bite, but my fork made it halfway to my lips and I shook my head and set it back down. “Did Van ever tell you anything? About her… training?” I asked. Beck swallowed his juice and set the glass back down. “No. And she was seven, anyways, when she was trained. Before she went to Smythe.” 

Smythe. Van’s first master. My father had practically rescued her from the man. Nearly killed him when he saw Vanessa at age ten being beaten in the shop. But, just like Beck, he’d held his composure, offered to purchase her for more than the man believed she was worth, and took her home, helping my mother to nurse her back to health. They’d never intended on purchasing a slave, but once they bought Van, she was their responsibility. It wasn’t as if they could free her, not for years, and they had to abide by the Department’s laws or she’d be taken from them. And then, when she had turned twenty five, she’d failed her assessment. Very few passed, but we’d all been sure she would be in the minority. My father had promised that he’d fund any venture she planned to take, even paying for schooling if she wished. My mother had ensured her that she could stay with us for as long as she wanted, as a family member and a paid nanny for Lilia and myself. But the Assessor was a jerk and he said that she was too domesticated and incapable of taking care of herself in the world. My parents fought to appeal it, much to Van’s horror. She begged them not to spend the time and money it took to hire a lawyer and go to court, and was even more distraught when they lost. She saw it as a waste. My parents saw her as their forth child. Luckily she was now safely in the arms of her new master, far from Beck and I and our new life. She would have been placed back on the market and sold. My only consolation was that she was safe. And Lilia, too, in death was spared this humiliation. 

“What about you?” I sipped at the tea before me. “Still planned on writing?” 

He nodded. “I guess if my master lets me, I could still do it. He could publish it for me, under his name. Keep all my profits.” He sighed. “I was never hoping to get rich from it anyways. I just loved to write.” 

“This is such crap.”

“Look.” He stopped me. “I think that lady was wrong. So what if it takes us a little time to adjust to being slaves? We just lost our parents and sister and who knows when we’ll have someone to comfort us? Let’s be upset. Let’s be there for each other.” 

Nodding, I grabbed my plate and dragged my chair over to sit beside Beck, instead of across from him. He put his arm around my shoulder and we ate, side by side. I laid my head on his shoulder, he laid his head on my head… and we both cried silently. No huge outbursts, or throwing dishes, or anything. Just soft, pitiful whimpers as we stuffed our faces with the last meals of our choice. 

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.” Beck changed his mind for the millionth time that day. “I’ll end up in a restaurant, washing dishes and busing tables. You’ll end up tutoring some rich little brats with a nice mom. And then when I’m twenty five I’ll pass my Assessment, beg my master to free me, and then buy you.” 

I raised my eyebrow. “With what money?” 

He shrugged. “I’ll work really, really hard and earn money fast.” 

“Just so you know, I plan on being very expensive.” 

For the first time in what already was starting to feel like forever, Beck gave me an amused little smile. “Okay, well you have to do your part too, you know. So try not to be too expensive.” 

“Maybe you can free me before I’m twenty five. Since you’re my brother, you could be my guardian. Isn’t that a thing?” 

He shook his head. “Wil’s brother tried that. He could only buy one of his siblings… Wil’s mistress wouldn’t sell him, and their little brother’s owner wanted too much. But he got their sister. The Department wouldn’t let him free her until she was twenty five and passed her assessment. Family or not.” 

I shrugged. “Well. What’s another few years wearing slave’s garb if I get to be free at home?” 

It seemed as good a plan as any, and I completely trusted my brother to pass his assessment and see himself freed.


	3. Chapter 3

River

When they came for us, we were on Beck’s bed, my head on his lap, his hands running through my hair.

“Will we get a chance to say goodbye later?” he asked the men standing at our door.

One of the guards made a face. “I wouldn’t chance it.”

I sat up, slowly, and turned to my brother. No words, just a long hug. We’d said all we needed to say. He kissed my hair. I kissed his shoulder. And then, “Be good. Do what they say.” He whispered. “Don’t fight them. Maybe someone nice will buy you.”

Saddest last words a brother could ever say to a sister.

“I love you so much.” He told me. "Never forget that."

“Me too.” Furrowed my brow, trying desperately not to cry.

And in one quick motion, he pulled away and walked out. Two men taking his arms and guiding him. I looked up at my own guards and nodded, following them out the door and in the opposite direction. 

Beckett

I lost it the second River was from my sight. Though silent, the tears rolled down my cheeks and sobs parted from my chest. I cried for my parents. For Lilia. For River. For myself. For all the things we would never again do. For the graduations we wouldn’t attend, the weddings we wouldn’t dance at, the grandchildren we would never have.

They led me into a small operation room with just a little bit of equipment, one doctor and nurse, and table… with restraints. While I was terrified for myself, I was even more upset to think that River was staring at the exact same fate. But in this frozen moment, they hustled me over and got me on the table, strapped down before I had a chance to fight. An IV in my arm. A mask over my face. Fuzziness clouding my mind. And then darkness. 

River

I woke up feeling sore and confused. Nothing was terribly painful, but my body seemed to radiate stiffness and tightness from every muscle. Images flashed through my brain, reminding me of what my life had become. How I’d fought them to get me onto the table, my terror taking over and shutting down the part of me that knew I couldn’t win. 

Still, the sedative had been a relief.

Still strapped down, I was thankful that my tunic was still on, though I knew the doctor had already seen my most intimate parts. It didn’t matter. Soon enough everyone wanting to buy a slave at the auction would see all of me. The thought made me feel as though I’d be sick.

“How’s the pain?” a nurse came over, pink scrubs, ID badge clipped to her shirt. I could’ve been her one day.

Shaking my head, I croaked, “Not too bad.”

She smiled. “Good, sweetie. I’m gonna get you into the wheelchair and take you to the next room, okay?”

I nodded, not sure that I wanted to leave the safety of this bed, but knowing that I didn’t have a say. She scooped me up easily and set me in the chair after unlocking the padded cuffs. I was too tired to fight, and she knew that. With a hand on my shoulder to keep me upright, she wheeled me out of the room and down the hallway, to another room, the “Ceremony Room”, the sign said. I’d heard of this room, but never the specifics. I only knew that it made Van shudder anytime she heard the words spoken. And I could understand why.

There was a big, stone fireplace with flames roaring inside. I began to sweat immediately, partially from the heat of the room and partially from my fear. The nurse stood me up and nudged the wheelchair away with her foot as two adults came into view. A man and a woman, both dressed in a scrubs like the nurse. The man stood directly in front of me and looked down, arms crossed. When he spoke, his voice surprised me with its’ gentleness. “This is the Ceremony. We’ll cut your clothes off, signifying your transition from Free to Slave. Then we’ll brand you, marking you for all to see. The nurse will take care of the wound, and you’ll be given pain relief to numb the pain, but keep you alert for the remainder of the day. We’ll then give you your new slave tunic. You won’t put it on until after you are cleaned. Do you understand?”

No. I didn’t understand anything. I’d seen slave brands… I’d seen Van’s. But I’d always shut down my brain before I visualized the brand actually being burned into their skin. 

The medicine was making my body pliant, but my mind was racing. I was terrified.

The other woman came over with a pair of scissors and took the top of my tunic in hand, making the first cut before I could even comprehend the touch of her fingers on my skin. Slowly, she snipped all the way down until the tunic split in half, parting from itself. My eyes welled with tears, this being the first time a man had seen my breasts and… and… I stopped. This was normal for slaves. No one would even notice me. There were plenty of other naked slaves all over the place… I would blend right in. It was the same excuse I used when I begged my father to let me wear a bikini. Everyone else was wearing one. No one would notice me.

They slipped the cloth from my shoulders, and there I stood. Completely nude.

Next, they moved me over to the small, wooden table and laid me down, my body beginning to wake up a bit. I felt myself fighting them, almost like I was tearing away, but to them I was tugging gently, hardly anything to think of. They hoisted me up, set me back down face first, and the women practically sat on me, holding my legs down, my torso, my arms. “No.” I muttered. One of them kept my face away from the fire so all I could see were the dancing shadows on the wall. “Wait. No.” This was all a ceremony. It could have been done more easily in the OR. “Please, I’m not ready.” With restraints. Sedatives. This was all about my experience. “Not yet! No! Wait! Please!”

The heat came with no warning… no. Not heat. Blinding pain. Horror. Terror. The smell of my searing flesh. The torment as my mind fought to break away from my body. My limbs flailed, my head jerked. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, my empty stomach retched with nothing to send up. But I didn’t pass out. It seemed to last an eternity.

The pain remained, though the iron was gone. I knew that on the small of my back, just above the crack in my bottom, was a bright red “S”. It had decorative vines trailing along itself, tiny leaves flowering out. The symbol of an Ilanian slave. It was a beautiful design, though a horrific one. I sobbed, my brain unable to disconnect for the first time since yesterday morning. Everything throbbed, everything screamed, and I knew that for the rest of my life, the pain that the symbol gave me would never go away. Even if I was freed I would have only a few months to earn enough money to have the brand removed before the Department would come and flay the skin off themselves. That had happened to a homeless, recently freed man in the alley behind our house.

Cold water stung nearly as much as the brand, though soothed as well. I knew it was more to help the brand keep shape than it was to offer me relief, but I was glad for it either way. It gave me something else to think of for a second. And then a cool salve. Suddenly I was on my feet again, practically being dragged, my body in too much pain to care that I’d passed five people in the hallway. Five people who now knew what my body looked like. Five people who could see the shiny ointment over my new slave brand. Five people who knew that I was now property of someone other than my parents.


	4. Chapter 4

River 

The rest of the morning was a blur, just as the counselor had promised. Just a quick shower in an open stall where they could see me, but thankfully allowed me to handle myself. My hair was dried and styled with a curling iron, falling softly just above the pain in my back. The dead ends were snipped off. My fingernails were filed and painted with a clear gel. My face was glossed over with a light, skin-colored powder, but nothing further. There was no mirror because they didn’t care if I saw myself, but I knew that I was in my most natural state. 

Someone gave me a toothbrush and told me to clean my teeth. Even the movement of my arm hurt my back. When I was finished, they ferried me off and set me in a chair with restraints for my wrists and ankles, strapping me down and sticking an IV in my arm. The nurse gave me a small smile. “That’s your food for today. Don’t want you getting sick because of your nerves.” Adjusting in my seat, I stopped when she held up a hand. “Careful.” She reminded me. “Your back.” 

Like I could forget. The pain still hadn’t subsided. Whatever they’d given me wasn’t working. 

Finally, after an hour of the IV, realizing my stomach would be growling for hours more, and suffering the wait, a new guard entered. The nurse smiled at him, removed my nutrients, and handed him my tunic. “Good luck, sweetie.” 

He unlocked the cuffs and helped me up, walking me out of the room and over to an elevator. We went up to the top floor and then down a small, dark hallway, into a large room with bright lights and small stalls in one corner, a large platform and seating area in another, and then what looked to be a check out area. The room was obviously set up for huge auctions with a hundred or more slaves, but just a small portion seemed to be lit up at the moment, most of it closed off by rope barriers. my guard led me over to an open stall, and I glanced to my right to see inside the others, but they were all empty. Ahead of me were guards looking in at the other stalls, so I assumed that they were simply placing me at the end of the line. That was just as well, the last thing I needed was to see my brother naked. 

I was backed over to a pole in the middle of the curtained stall. The guard cuffed my wrists in a set of simple handcuffs, my eyes following his every movement, terrified that he was going to do something horrible to me, and then raised them above my head. The metal was cold against my skin, but they weren’t too tight, and my arms hung loosely. He bent down and placed a cuff around my ankle, the pulled it behind the pole and cuffed the other cuff to my left foot, both cuffs loose but firm. They weren’t trying to punish me, obviously… they just wanted to make inspecting me easier. They had been right not to feed me. I would've hurled up everything right then and there with that one thought. 

“Don’t speak unless spoken to.” He told me. “Your chances of being purchased by a kind trainer will go up if you’re good. We’ve only got a few coming tonight, so this should be over pretty fast.” 

He walked away, leaving my tunic sitting on a chair by the front of my stall. I could hear the guards pacing, more slaves being brought to the stalls to my left, kids crying quietly, kids wailing loudly… and then more footsteps. Trainers suddenly appeared before me, eyeing the line of new slaves. The guard was right, there were only about ten of them, some men, some women, some kind looking, some terrifying. They began inspecting slaves immediately, the guards standing across from us, watching closely. A woman came over to me first, looking at me with a soft smile. She reached out her hand, and I jerked away, scared. 

“Shh.” She chuckled. “It’s okay. I just want to feel your hair.” 

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as she ran her fingers through my locks, walking around me. “Are you straight?” she asked. “Your file says you are.” 

Nodding, I swallowed. “Yes ma’am.” 

“And you’ve never thought about being with another woman?” 

“N-no ma’am.” I hated how terrified my voice sounded. How much I was shaking. How I was barely standing on my own. I wanted to kick myself. I was tougher than this. 

She shook her head, making a disappointed face. “Pity.” 

A man walked over in a very nice suit, tablet in hand. He had that salesman look about him, so it didn’t surprise me when he said, “Find something you like?” 

The woman gave out a disheartened sigh. “She’s beautiful, but my client wants a lesbian.” 

“Well, I’m sure you could turn her.” The man smirked, chuckling lightly. 

My eyes flashed over to him, horrified, a sharp pang in my chest as I sucked in a breath. He had to be kidding. They didn’t do that, did they? Besides, I was too young to be a sex slave. 

“Ah, not when there’s so many lesbians out there who would love a mistress.” She pulled away from me and gave me one last, long look. “Ah well. Show me your lesbians.” 

And they walked off. Another man glanced at me as he walked by with a saleswoman, but shook his head. “I’m looking for a redhead.” And kept going. Two trainers stood by the guards, eyeing as many of us at a time as they could. “I’m looking for twins for my son and I to train.” 

“Oh. I need a boy with blonde hair and brown eyes. And he needs to be six two exactly.” 

“These clients and their specifics.” The other guy rolled his eyes. 

The second laughed. “Last year my wife’s client had her searching the entire country for a girl with black hair, green eyes, and a birth defect leaving her with only one arm. These fetishes…” 

I watched them walk off, confused. Why would the clients want such tall orders? 

A man inspected me, asked me about my experience taking care of kids, but walked away when I told him how old I was. He wanted someone younger. It seemed pretty bleak for a while. Not only was I disappointed that no one was interested in me and I might end up in a government facility, I was also upset that I even cared. There were pros and cons of each. Staying with the gov meant less attention and access to other slaves. Friends, even. Being in a private home meant nice things, and more attention. 

I guess it just depended on whether or not the attention was good or bad. 

Finally, another woman walked over. She wore a tight business suit and had her hair pinned up in a knot at the top of her head. “Have you ever worked in an office before?” 

Swallowed, I nodded. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Where?” 

“My parents ran a furniture business. They had warehouses all over the country.” 

She frowned. “Freya and Henry?” her arms crossed over her chest, she eyed me. 

My eyes widened, and I sniffed, nodding again. “Yes.” 

“There was a rumor that they’d passed. I’m very sorry. How much for the girl?” she glanced over to the person following her. 

“One hundred thousand.” The saleswoman told her, tablet in hand.

The lady scoffed. “Please.” 

“She’s very attractive and she’s still young. You must understand.” 

“What about eighty?” 

The sales girl looked a bit nervous. “I’m not authorized to go below one hundred, ma’am.” 

“Fine.” The business woman rolled her eyes. “What about boys? Got any that aren’t so attractive you can’t even go down twenty in price?” 

No. No. I wanted to call to her. To beg her to come back. I could work in an office. I could make copies and punch holes and brew coffee and run errands. “Wait.” I finally got out. “Please. I’ll do a good job. I swear.” I was begging someone to buy me. Tears threatened to appear, making me blush even harder. 

They both stopped, and the business lady looked back at the sales lady once more imploring her to go down, but the woman with the tablet just shook her head, sorry. The other lady gave me as much of a sympathetic look as I assumed she could muster, and then they walked off. 

Finally, when it seemed that everyone had made their decisions and purchases, the sold slaves were led off with their new trainers and the rest of us were uncuffed and handed our slave tunics. I slid it on shakily, my arms moving fully for the first time in a few hours. When the cool cloth finally fell past my bottom, the hole in the back left an uncomfortable emptiness around my brand. Not even my clothes felt right. 

The guard took my arm and led me out of the stall and into a line of new slaves, and my heart soared when I saw the back of Beck’s head in front of me. I reached forward to touch his shoulder and he jerked off of me with a motion so forceful I nearly yelped. When he saw that it was just me, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Geez, Riv.” 

I swallowed, knowing that neither of us were going to talk about why he was so jumpy. About how we’d never get used to being manhandled. 

“So no one bought you.” He said, flatly. 

With a twitch of my mouth, I shook my head. “They all seemed to be looking for some pretty specific things for their clients. The only one who made a real offer was some business lady.” 

He nodded. “Joana Dunn. She owns a corporation and is so controlling that she personally trains every new slave and employee herself.” 

Scoffing, I frowned. “How does she get anything done?” 

“Well it can’t be that hard to use a copier.” My brother smirked. 

“Still.” I looked up at him. “That could’ve… I mean, that would’ve…” 

“Been a good gig.” He made a face. “I’m sorry, kiddo.” 

“Well, I wanted a hospital, anyway, so.” I shrugged, seeing the sparkle return to his eye. Someone bumped into the back of me with a muffled, “Sorry”, but as Beck caught my shoulders in his hands to steady me, he noticed my wince and it reminded him of the brands on our back. Just like that, moment ruined. 

We moved then, the guards prodding us out the door, down the hall, and down a few flights of stairs. Suddenly, we were at a loading dock with a truck backed up to it, the back doors open to reveal long benches on either side. There were only about ten of us, and before we stepped in, the guards took our right arms, placed a scanner over the soft flesh just above our wrists, and pushed a button. There was a beep, and then a long, thin label printed out the bottom. He ripped it from the machine and wrapped it around our wrists, sticking the end to the beginning. When I got mine, I looked down at it. Not paper, or plastic, but both. It wouldn’t come off just by tugging, and I doubted anyone was giving me any scissors. 

I followed Beckett down the bench and ended up beside him, somewhere in the middle of the left bench. The guards came around and snapped our seat belts like we couldn’t do it ourselves, then cuffed our ankles to bolts in the floor. Beck never let go of my hand. 

“Our wrists…” I whispered to him, once the men had moved down the line. I held my own wrist up, noticing for the first time a small stitch. The day had been so hectic that I hadn’t had time to inspect my body for fresh horrors. 

He rubbed my left arm with his left hand. “It’s a tracker. You can’t cut it out without nicking the artery, so… no one tries.” His voice was soft, gentle, as he broke the news. “That’s why so few slaves run off, and even fewer actually escape.” 

My face contorted as I tried to decide how I felt about all of this. 

The doors slammed shut, the truck jolted, and then we were off, riding along one of the few roads in the city. The drive lasted only about twenty minutes or so, just long enough to get us out of downtown and into the outskirts of the area, where so many industrial buildings were, factories, things like that. They unloaded us and led us into a new, large room. Only about four guards remained, but we were met with three new ones in similar uniforms, a cluster of trainers to the side, and a man wearing a more impressive uniform holding a clipboard. As they lined us up, he paced, eyeing us. When each slave was finally in position, he raised his eyebrows. “Welcome to the Training Facility."


	5. Chapter 5

River

"Just like with private trainers, our trainers are only allowed to train one slave at a time. However, unlike private trainers, we sometimes choose to do things corporately. Therefore, even after you are assigned to a trainer, keep in mind that every free man and woman in the place is your master or mistress. You will respect each of them with the same respect you give your trainer. You will call them Master, Mistress, or whatever they ask you to call them. You will obey them immediately. And you will not hesitate, question, argue, or plead.” 

I wanted to touch Beck, even if it was just a light tap on his hand, but he wasn’t touching me and I knew that if he felt like he could, he would, so I held myself back. Still, terror rippled through me. The man went on. “When your name is called, you will step forward to receive your assignment and new trainer. Keep in mind that your assignment is not subject to change until you are twenty-five. You will be trained in the area that you are assigned to, no matter what. Once everyone has been assigned, your trainer will come to claim you and take you off to your training room.” 

I swallowed. Okay. This was really it. I was really going to loose Beck now, at least for a little while. Steadying myself, I locked my jaw and curled my fists, praying I would end up in a hospital, or a doctor’s office, or even at a dentist’s. 

“Amber Xaquelin.” The girl at the end of the line to my right stepped forward. She was shaking, probably seventeen or so. “Your trainer will be Wilma Jones. You will be trained as a school tutor.” 

Breathing out a bit, I saw as the girl relaxed more so than me. I gave her a small smile that she would never see, happy for her. 

The next girl who came forward was younger, twelve or thirteen. “Ginny Benson. Zachary Astor. Kitchen cook.” 

Not great, but not awful. 

“Ally Quinn. Marsha Davidson. Runway and Print Model.” Oh. Cushy. Still, it had to be embarrassing to be a famous slave. Most TV shows had at least one slave actor, news reporters were sometimes slaves, even a few of my favorite bands, and certainly my favorite Olympic swimmer. They got to do what they loved (or so the public believed, at least) but their paycheck, or in Greyson Marcus’ case, Olympic medal, went straight to their owner. 

“Franklin Rye.” He came forward, only about seven or eight. “Polly Samuels. Street Janitor.” 

I tried not to make a face. That would be horrible, chained to a garbage truck all day. But hey… fresh air. The boy to my right was next, about the same age as me.

“Zephyr Manuel. Martin Henderson. House Pet.” 

I saw him nearly falter as he stopped in the new line, a step before me. My eyes narrowed with sympathy, knowing that his fate was one of the worst. Most pets weren’t allowed to be freed because they were treated as less than human. Generally, by the time they turned twenty five, they’d slipped into the role and nearly forgotten how to take care of themselves. His shoulders shook, and I realized he was sobbing silently. Poor kid. 

Then, a phantom touch… or maybe a real touch. I couldn’t tell, everything was happening so fast. I looked to Beckett, who tried his hardest to smile at me. 

“River Donovan.” 

I stepped forward, beside the crying boy, vowing to remember him. To remember his humanity. Maybe one day when I was free I could buy him. Teach him how to live again. 

“Isaac Madaleine. Pleasure slave.” 

Beckett

Time stopped. My heart stopped. My breath stopped. And there, frozen, was my sister. Her hair was long and brown, soft and silky, stopping just above the hole in her new garb, the fresh brand bright red and almost indistinguishable yet, too puffy to make out. Her bare feet had padded over to her new place, but her right foot had seemed to pause halfway down, her toes barely touching the cold floor. Her hands, wringing together in front of her, just out of my sight. Still, it was a nervous tic I knew hadn’t failed her now. 

But the worst part… her expression. I couldn’t see it. 

I couldn’t look my sister in the eye the moment she found out that she was destined to be a sex slave. 

“Beckett Donovan.” The voice went on, almost in a comically slow rhythm that I didn’t realize was in my own head. “Lance Fryer. Pleasure slave.” 

But just then, I snapped out. “No!” I stepped forward, grabbing River and pushing her behind me. “There’s been a mistake. She’s only sixteen.” 

The guards came over, and River clutched me tightly. “No.” she murmured. “No.” 

“The law was passed last month. The age dropped down to fifteen. Now move.” The man with the clipboard waved his hand as if to say “Let’s get on with it.” His men wrenching River away from me until they succeeded. I had tried to turn, to hold her in my arms, but they had her before I could, her hands clawing at me, terrified, her head shaking furiously, her eyes welling with tears, begging me to save her. “No.” she begged. “No, please, no.” while her face was a mess of sorrow, her body lashed out viciously, kicking and twisting as they dragged her away from the other slaves, away from me. I don’t know what I was doing. Distantly, I could feel hands on my upper arms, an arm around my waist, a hand gripping at my hair. Even though I could hear myself yelling, it was River’s words I was tuned into. “Please don’t do this.” She sobbed. “I don’t want… I don’t want to…” 

And then her eyes bulged. The words turned into screams. Her knees buckled, and she hung limply from the guards’ arms. But instead of me watching her fall, we seemed to go down together. And it was then that I felt a burning sensation in my side, just above my hip… the jolt of electricity, the shock of a taser. My breathing grew even more shallow... my body was dripping sweat and each muscle clenched involuntarily. The room seemed to swirl, and I vaguely heard the words, “Just take them. Good luck, you two.” From the man with the clipboard. The guards dragged us along, but it was all so hazy… such a blur. Down a long hallway. They stopped. River went through one door. I went through another.

River 

Beck looked dead as they dragged him through the door and out of my view. I was almost walking now, certainly not on my own, but they’d been a bit gentler with me. Not as many shocks. Probably on a lower setting. Still hurt. 

They’d pulled my tunic off, shoved me into a small cage, and locked the door behind me. I couldn’t sit up, so I just curled on my side, sobbing. Just then, the shocking cold of a hose slammed into me so hard the cage actually slid a few inches. “Ah!” I screamed, the pain on my back so bad I knew it had probably damaged a kidney or something. They sprayed my back, walked around to my head as I shielded it with my hands, no doubt stripping me of a portion of hair. Then my front. I did my best, but the water knocked the breath out of me. There was too much to protect at once, and I was actually grateful when they moved to my rear, even though I could feel water shooting up inside of me. 

Then it was over, and I was laying there, curled up, shivering, and sobbing. 

“You need anything else from us?” 

“No, guys. Thank you. I’ve got it from here.” His voice sounded tired, like he knew I was going to be a challenge, and he wasn’t entirely up for it. But when I heard footsteps leaving the room, echoing on the concrete, there were three. The light went off, and then a door shut and locked. 

I was all alone. 

Beckett

One time, when we were kids, Riv and I were at the market picking up blueberries for muffins Van wanted to bake. My parents were out of town, and Lilia was at home with Vanessa. 

“I want to come!” River had begged when Van asked me to run out to fetch the berries, handing me my parents’ spare bank card they gave to her when they were gone. 

Vanessa sighed. “Okay, Riv. But you stay right with your brother. You understand? Beck?” 

We both nodded, and I grabbed River’s hand. She pulled away and frowned. “We’re not even out of the house yet.” 

“I’m not letting anything happen to you.” I had told her. 

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby, Beckett.” My little sister pushed out her bottom lip and stalked out the door, me giving Van a long-suffering look. Our slave smiled at me, all-knowing. 

I took my sister to the market, hurrying right up to the blueberries, so excited about our muffins. They had buckets and buckets of them, and I couldn’t quite tell the ripest. “River, which ones do you think look the best?” my head whirled over to her… only she wasn’t there. “Riv?” I turned my other way, then around in a complete circle. She was no where in sight. “River?” I called a little louder. “River!” 

My heart tugged in my chest, a sinking feeling landing in the pit of my stomach. Where was she? How could I have already lost her? 

I took a few steps to each side, but dared not leave the area, in case she tried to return. “River!” 

“What?” she snapped, appearing behind me. 

Gaping, I grabbed her arm. “Where were you?” I demanded, shaking her. 

“Ow. You’re hurting me!” her bright eyes glared up at me. 

“Yeah, well you’re lucky that’s all I’m doing. You scared me half to death.” 

“Sorry. I saw Kendall. Just wanted to say hey.” she shrugged, as if I hadn't just nearly keeled over from fright. 

Let out a huge sigh of relief, I shook my head. “Just get some berries and let’s go. I am never letting you out of my sight again.” 

But I had. Because here I was, curled up on my side, naked, being hosed down, knowing that somewhere down the hallway, the same thing was happening to her.   
Footsteps receded. The lights went out. And I was alone. After a few minutes, I felt okay enough to stretch out, but was horrified when something stopped me. Reaching out in every direction, even up, I realized that I was trapped in some tiny cell. I could barely even get up on my elbows before my head hit the top. Claustrophobia gripped me, and I curled back up again on my other side, taking deep breaths. It was going to be okay. I was going to be okay. How did they get me in a cage without me remembering it? Where were my clothes? And was that…? Oh no. A thick metal band around my neck, my wrists, my ankles. They’d put my slave collar and cuffs on while I was out. Didn’t even make a ceremony out of it. 

I must’ve blacked out. 

Once more, a wave of fear and sickness hit me, and I closed my eyes to stop the spinning. The last thing I needed was to vomit in this tiny cell. 

And then, darkness. 

\--------------------------------

When I woke up, things had gotten much, much worse. My entire head was consumed by some thick, hot material, with certain places tighter than others. I shook my head, weakly, and nothing gave. Something huge and thick was inside my mouth, reaching to the top of my throat, and made my jaw ache and my mouth dry, pushing my tongue down flat. As my panic grew, I felt my throat closing up, but I closed my eyes and told myself to calm down, and I did. The material stretched over my nose, but somehow I was able to breathe. The padding over my eyes was tight and restrictive, letting in no light at all. And it was terribly quiet. The padding was thick over my ears, and I wondered if there were earmuffs attached as well. The thought was horrifying. 

But worse than that was the rest of my body. Restrictive cuffs on my upper arms, my thighs, and the others on my wrists and ankles, and of course the collar. All seemed to be connected, leaving me on my stomach with my head pulled back by a strap on my collar, and my appendages meeting at my buttocks, which felt oddly full. I tried to push, but my cheeks met some leather strap. A chastity harness, I knew. I'd seen them on enough slaves before. 

And my penis burned, telling me that there was something inside it, as well as surrounding it and my… sac. No problem there. The boys at school had told me about these... the kids whose father's had slave boys in their bed every night. It was to keep me from getting hard. None of this was turning me on, but it certainly was making my intestines cramp and my heart race. 

Suddenly I felt a swoosh of air, and my suspicions were confirmed that my hearing was, in fact, gone. Rough hands grabbed whatever was tying my hands and feet together and lifted, making each limb scream. I tried to scream too, but nothing came out but a muffled cry that I couldn’t even really hear. I was dropped on my stomach again, and while the pressure released a bit, my entire body hit cold concrete hard. Hands made their way up my calves and I felt a second of relief as my ankles were unlocked from my hands, but my hands stayed put. It was then I noticed the strap of leather around my waist, most likely what everything was connected to. As the man (Isaac?) lowered my legs, my knees cried out. Then, he separated my ankles from each other before attaching some kind of bar that kept them pinned together but far away from one another. It had no give and was too heavy for me to lift. Then, fingers on my butt. I squirmed, but a hand cracked down on my thigh painfully. The leather came away from between my legs, and then without warning, whatever was inside my anus was ripped out, making me scream. I had to be bleeding. 

Something else was inserted… something hard and cold. Then, liquid rushed inside me, cold liquid. I tried to squirm, and was hit more this time, over and over until I stopped. The plastic pulled out, and the thicker piece was shoved back in while hands gripped around me and massaged my stomach. Sobs racketed my body, and the inside of the hood was a steamy, wet, snotty mess. I wanted so badly to lay my head down, but the collar pulled at my throat, forcing me to stay up or choke. Maybe choke would be a better option. 

After what felt like an eternity, hands gripped me tight and pulled me up and back, my feet remaining on the floor, until I was sitting on a stool with no inside… a giant ring, it felt like. The piece was ripped from my anus again, and all that liquid came rushing out. 

We did that two more times until I nearly fainted from it all. 

On the last time, I was lifted all the way off my feet, turned, and lowered back down. I could feel the bar fitting the ground, and the vibration jolted my ankles. Then, a searing pain as whatever was inside my penis was pulled out, and hands made their way to my abdomen, pushing. I did have to pee, so bad, but I just couldn’t. Still, we stood there, hands massaging me, another holding up my heavy penis, until finally, in a fit of tears, I released. 

After that, everything was a blur. Freezing cold water sprayed me, I remember that. My head was released from my waist band, but still in the hood and collar. And something warm and heavy entered me from behind over and over. And over. 

Then something else went into me for a while, strapped in with the leather belt. A burning sensation tickled my throat as I realized that the gag in my mouth had a feeder tube that was now supplying me with water and nutrients but not satiating the need in my mouth for moisture. And finally, I was laid back on my back and each cuff on my body was attached to the floor. 

I don’t know how long I stayed that way, but it was long enough to need to go again when he returned. I was feeling rested, I wasn’t starving, and I had an idea of what was going on now, enough to know that I’d been raped repeatedly hours before. 

This time I was hauled to my knees, my hands cuffed behind me, that bar reattached to my ankles, and my collar attached to bars behind me, and to each side, allowing no movement on my part. Then, a strange feeling of cool air as the hood was opened just a bit around my mouth, and then a horrible sensation as the tube was removed, along with the gag. Sobbing noises came from my lips, even as I tried to scream and shout and curse. Instead, something new was pushed into my mouth, nudged into my teeth, and forced me to stay open wide. And then pressure against my face. Something warm and full on my tongue. And then burning and warm liquid. Urine. 

I tried to fight, but there was nothing I could do to get away. Then, he just sat there, in my mouth. After a minute he hit me, hard, on the upper arm, and it stung. Then again. And again, over and over until I realized that this wasn’t just him being a… well… anyways. It was punishment for something I wasn’t doing. 

Oh. He wanted me to lick. 

My heart sank. 

But I wouldn’t 

So eventually, after my arms were numb, he just started doing it himself, in and out, making me gag and want to throw up, over and over until I tasted his sticky residue inside me. And then I did throw up. 

I felt release as the bars on either side of me were removed, but the one in the back shook far from me, and then shoved me down. I could smell the vomit on the floor, and I felt stupid, knowing he was rubbing my nose in it like the bad dog I’d been. 

But then we stayed there, and this time I realized faster that once more, he wanted an action from me. So I refused… not about to lick up my own vomit. And we were in a stand off. Something hard and thin hit my buttocks over and over again feeling like it might wear right through me. 

He won. 

My arms and knees couldn’t take it anymore, but I’m certain I held out for at least an hour. 

In the end, I licked it up. The gag and tube were replaced. I was chained over some sort of round bench, he shoved inside of me until I passed out. 

When I woke up, everything inside of me was screaming. I hadn’t gone to the bathroom in I didn’t know how long, and I was certain I would burst. In a moment of despair, I tried to go, but I realized that everything that had been pushed inside of me stopped me from doing either of my deeds. 

Still, he wasn’t far away. I felt arms pull me to my knees, and I was locked once more into position for him to use my face. And he did. I didn’t help, even though he hit me again, but I also didn’t throw up. I guess it was progress enough, because he then laid me over the bench, used me, and the kept me there when he shoved that plastic nozzle up my butt and shot in the cold water. More cramping. My need to pee was worse than ever. And then he pulled the plug out and let me go all over the back of my legs. Then, the penis piece came out, and this time I needed no help. 

But instead of inserting the normal things back inside, new things came in. Bigger things. Things that vibrated. And suddenly I realized that life could always get worse.


	6. Chapter 6

River

I’m not sure how long I lived in the sensory deprivation stage, as I later learned it was called. But having something inserted into every hole all the time, while I was bound one way or another, and my face in the most claustrophobic contraption known to man, while being raped, made me understand the silence and compliance of all the sex slaves I’d ever seen. Sometimes there would be one person at each end, going in and out of me. Sometimes they wouldn’t clean me out for what was probably days. Sometimes I was suspended, cum on, peed on, cuffed to the ground, the wall, a chair. Once my collar was cuffed to the floor with an unyielding padlock while the rest of my limbs were free, and I thrashed about for hours before I gave up. It gave me a chance to explore the outside of my hood, and I found small padlocks and relentless straps all over my head. it was nice being able to stretch out, especially my fingers and toes, for a while. 

The worst was not knowing when something was coming. I would be deep inside my thoughts, remembering a bright sunny day cooking with my mom, when all of a sudden fingers were squeezing my breasts. Those fingers loved to explore my body, inside and out, forcing me to suck them in my mouth after they’d been up the other holes in my body, no matter how dirty they were. 

Not that my taste buds would know what to do with themselves. My food bypassed my tongue and went straight down my throat, so all I knew was semen and urine, and once a douche he’d placed in my mouth before immediately shoving in the gag, making me suck his feces off and swallow it. I was terrified I would vomit it up and choke on it and die before he noticed, but then the terror went away and I decided I was okay with dying. 

But I didn’t vomit. 

And finally, one day, after the gag had become so big I thought my jaw would dislocate, and the plug inside my butt was so large I thought my hips would pop out of place, I was brought to my feet. It wasn’t strange, I was often on my feet, but I was always cuffed to something. And this time, I was too… but it wasn’t something immobile. 

I felt something hard on my neck, and it forced my neck straight and my head up. Then, a thick piece of metal ran down my spine, and my wrists were cuffed to it, in the middle of my back. The piece ran past my butt, and then curved between my legs, reminding me of its’ presence. 

I felt a tiny movement by my neck, and then a tug. A leash, probably. For only a minute, I fought, but a quick second where I stumbled made me realize how horrible it would be to fall. Either I would face plant onto the concrete, with no way to stop myself, or he would catch me with the leash and I would hang from my neck. Neither seemed like a viable option. So I walked. 

It took me about ten minutes before I realized we were leash training. He would stop, and I wouldn’t know so I kept walking until I felt a tug and had to stop because there was no give. Each time, I got a lash on my heels. If I bumped into him, I got a lash on my front. If I failed to walk when he started, I got another on the tops of my feet. With no way to rub my stinging flesh, I learned quickly to come at the slightest movement, to walk the correct distance without even being able to see or hear him, and stopping perfectly. 

For days, it must have been, we continued leash training in the same fashion, but he added kneeling, using a crop to get me in the correct position, spreading my legs, the bar and collar keeping my posture perfect. And day after day it went on like this, me learning to lie on my back so my crotch was exposed, and subjected to torment, me learning to stand for hours at a time without flinching, me holding him in my mouth until my jaw felt stuck for good, but still not harming him with my teeth… until finally, I found myself running through each position in one go perfectly. 

My graduation onto the next step of training was my fault, but it was an accident. 

Just after I woke up and was shoved into mouth-using position, I drifted off quickly. And it wasn’t until I felt a soft petting on my shoulder that I realized that I was licking and helping. Mortified, I stopped, but it was too late. He came in my mouth and then pulled out. I felt something cold on my tongue, and before I knew it, the ring gag was out and I was sipping happily cool fresh water from a bottle. 

After that, the feeding tube was no longer used. It was kind of a lose/lose situation, since it was replaced by something just a horrible. The bars that kept me in place during the… oral administration… were reversed and pointed towards what felt like a wall. I was pushed forward and the gag was taken out, but I didn’t have a chance to speak before my face was shoved onto something very similar to my gag. Really… something very similar to male genitalia. I knew what I had to do, I sucked, and suddenly, water came out. 

And that’s how I was fed from then on… hollow dildos on the wall containing water and some sort of protein liquids. 

 

Beckett

As if being trapped in a cage with mittens and a hood all the time wasn’t bad enough, there were full body bags, arm binders, and corsets that were frequently rotated into my schedule. Some days I was lifted and locked into a sling. Some days I was tied up and hung in ropes until my entire body was numb. I guess the point of all of this was you can perform your sexual duties in any sort bondage we put you in. And unfortunately, the lesson was well learned. 

More than one panic attack had arisen from me, and each time I was patted and forced to kneel and the gag was removed but I was hit if I spoke. Once my arm binders were loosened, allowing my chest some freedom. But nothing was ever completely taken off. 

And then one day, after I finished my dildo meal, something incredible happened. 

The earmuffs came off. 

“Hi Beckett.” I heard a quiet voice. “I know you can’t speak, but my name is Lance and I’m your trainer. We still have a long way to go before I’ll even think about giving you your sight, but you’ve finally graduated to being allowed to hear. Do not forget everything you’ve learned. I would hate for you to regress.”

I felt crazy, like maybe I was imagining it all. It seemed like years since I’d heard a noise, and suddenly there were sounds bombarding my brain. The air whooshed by, Isaac’s voice, his breathing, the hum of the lights… everything was different. 

From then on I was more tense and more relaxed all at once. The only thing as terrifying as living your life with absolutely no idea when you’re going to receive a hit, or have someone feel you up is hearing it coming. Now that I was no longer constantly on edge from never being about to hear or see, anytime I heard footsteps, or a door open, it felt like an eternity before I felt the maker of the noise. And just as my hearing was both a blessing and a curse, so was my love for my sister. While the thought of rescuing her kept me working to graduate fast, it was the knowledge that someone was doing the same thing to her that made it almost impossible to comply. 

But it didn’t matter what I wanted. The only options I had were to allow him to do what he wanted, or get beat up and then he did what he wanted anyway. I usually got to sleep longer if he didn’t have to punish me. So, after making the switch over to dildo feeding, and after being allowed my hearing, he granted me another freedom. 

“Okay, Beck.” He told me, pulling me off the toilet from my enema and pressing a plug at my hole, gently shoving it in. “Each day from now on, for one hour, your hands and feet will be free. I’ll take off your mitts, unlock your cuffs, and you’ll be permitted to walk around the room on your own. At the end of the hour I’ll give you a command to stand still, you’ll obey, and I’ll reattach your restraints. You will not fight me, or you will loose the privilege for two days and you will be paddled. Nod once if you understand.” 

I nodded. 

“Good boy.” He whispered, licking my ear and finally getting the plug in. I gasped sharply as it popped into place and then felt the familiar tug of the chastity belt that kept it in. My legs were already unrestrained, as I’d walked over to the toilet, so all he had to do was uncuff my hands from the posture rail and then loosen my mitts enough to slide them off. When they finally were free, I instantly moved to stretch out my fingers for the first time in ages. 

It was horrifyingly painful. 

“Go easy, kid.” He patted me on the back. “You’ve been locked up for a long time. It’s gonna hurt. You can walk around now. Just… careful. Don’t bump into anything.” 

He didn’t leave, but I didn’t expect privacy for the rest of my life so I took advantage of my hour. I walked around long enough to get my bearings, I did lunges and a few Sun Salutations, then I found a clear path long enough for me to run back and forth. It was unsettling, and every now and then I’d freak out thinking I was going to run into something and halt suddenly, only to hear Isaac snicker. I hated him so much. 

My body wasn’t used to all this movement, and before long I was feeling dizzy and sick, so I just curled up into a ball on the floor. It was nice getting to just relax into whatever position I wanted to be in. That posture bar kept me from ever doing just that, and I was so grateful to be free from it. 

“Stand, Beckett.” 

Quickly, not willing to relinquish tomorrow’s free time, I stood to my feet and into waiting position. He reattached my mitts, my cuffs, locked my ankles, and guided me to the wall for dinner. But the exercise made me feel alive again.


	7. Chapter 7

River

 

One day, my blindfold came off. The lights were low at first, but over the hours slowly brightened to give my eyes plenty of time to adjust. 

Isaac wasn’t handsome. I’m sure if I saw him on the street or if he were an actor or musician I would have probably found him attractive, but he wasn’t a wonder or anything, and the things he’d been forcing on me certainly didn’t help. The room I was in was concrete, just like I’d imagined. My crate was barely big enough to hold me in it, and looked as disgusting as it smelled and felt. The fact that I wore no clothes became even more humiliatingly apparent now that I could see myself, but Isaac made no indication that he cared. In fact, for a while he just stared at me. 

I still had a gag in, could feel the back of the dildo shoved into my throat. Every breath was a struggle. But after what felt like forever, he began. 

“Up.” I knew that one. On my knees, cheek pressed against the bars, waiting for him to clip my leash. “Out.” was also easy… crawling seemed strange now that I could see where I was going. But his expression was neutral and kept my cheeks from flaming. 

“Up.” He pulled my leash back through the bars to untangle me and I stood. 

That day was like every other day, except I could see. my eyes followed his with each command, and as my body had gotten used to his tone, his volume, the inflections of his voice, it now honed in on his expressions, his body language. And over the next few days, that’s what we did. Silent commands. Reading him. Knowing his wants. 

My embarrassment never died. Each time he filled my mouth with his urine-smelling penis, I cried. Every thrust of himself into me made me cry out. But more and more, it became harder and harder to fight. No longer was he a beast I could only feel, or hear, but now I could see his eyes, watch his mouth. Now he was a human, and my ideas to escape him grew less and less realistic. Even strapped down to a bench, my butt cheeks on fire from his palm, I couldn’t think of a single scenario in which I won. 

Each day he cleaned me, fed me, went through leash commands, taught me to service him, and then taught me to take pain. Crops, canes, whips, even electricity… he did it all. Vibrators were inserted into my vagina, and not only did I learn what an orgasm was, but I learned quickly that they weren’t good. Each time they rippled through my body, the sting of a whip cut across my thighs or a flogger found its way between my legs. He would pinch my nipples and if I cried or screamed, he would zap me with a Taser. 

Sometimes, when I was too tired to open my mouth, he’d pinch my nose shut until I couldn’t breathe, and as I opened, gasping for air, he’d plug my mouth up with his penis. 

There was never any real rest. I’m not sure when he slept, because I certainly didn’t. I would get an hour, here or there, but instead of being able to doze off peacefully, I spent most of it worrying, wondering where Beckett was, or if my parents were in some after world where they were watching all of this happen to us. 

If that was the case, then we were all in hell. 

 

Beckett

 

According to Lance, it had been three weeks. 

Three weeks of pure humiliation, torture, and no control. 

But on that day, I left the room for the first time. 

“Beckett.” He pulled my leash and pushed me to my knees in front of him. My hands were still locked behind my back, attached to my posture collar, so I was forced into a straight back kneel. “We’re going into a group training room today. There will be other slaves, some who have been here longer than you, others who arrived after you. But every few weeks, we do a training session. today we’ll be working on serving for parties and events your future owners may host. If you are sold to a harem or event rental facility then it is incredibly important that you retain this training. I’m going to unlock you, and you’re going to put on a white tunic.” He nodded to a folded cloth on the table that I’d noticed him set down earlier. “You will serve food and whine, and for each drop spilled on your tunic, you will receive ten strokes with a paddle. It doesn’t matter who spills on you, you’ll be the one to be punished. Am I clear?” 

“Yes sir.” I replied, my head down. 

He’d allowed me to begin speaking only yesterday, and my throat was still sore and dry from the lack of speaking but excess of being used to ram items down. Even if I’d wanted to yell and scream, I’m not sure I could. 

“River will be there. And you will not speak to her or acknowledge her in any way. If you do, she’ll be stripped of her tunic and beaten by the trainers. Am I clear?” 

My chest felt like it was being stoned. I swallowed, nodding as much as I could. “Yes sir.” 

“Good boy.” He ran his fingers through my hair, and I flinched. He hissed and slapped me. “Or not. Come along.” 

He tugged in the “come command” motion, and I stood and followed him to the table. I heard the jingle of his keys, and the sharp burn that came from being released. Each arm screamed from the pain, but he didn’t care. He just shoved the tunic over my head, growled when I needed help lifting my arms, and then shoved it down past my waist. “Hands before you.” he ordered. I clasped them together in front of me and lowered my gaze. “Come.” He barked, tugging. 

 

River

 

Leaving the room was relieving and terrifying all at the same time. On the one hand, all I’d wanted to do for forever was get out of that room. On the other hand, I wasn’t really feeling this whole “group training”. Isaac wasn’t in a terribly good mood, and already I’d had the crop on the bottoms of my feet, making me practically dance my way down the hall behind him. The concrete was cold, and each time it touched a welt, it burned and the pressure was horrible. 

The lights were dim and flickering, and it was drafty and smelled of sweat and blood and sex. But it was only minutes before he stopped, opened a door, and we entered a room with about fifteen other kids and their trainers. I scanned the group, but Beckett wasn’t there yet. 

He'd told me what he’d do if I tried to get to my brother. Beck would raped in front of everyone and I would be forced to suck him off. I was sure he’d been threatened similarly, so I knew we’d both be good, which sucked. But then the door opened, and in walked two trainers, but only one kid. 

Beckett. 

And suddenly, I didn’t really care what they would do to us. The urge to see my brother was so overwhelming. As I moved my foot, the pressure physically reminded me of where we were, and what they would do, and I swallowed and quickly lowered my gaze before we made eye contact. 

If that happened, it would all be over. 

He looked terrible… thin, hungry, covered in marks. I knew that by the time they sold us we would be beautiful and enticing, but I couldn’t imagine my brother recovering from this. 

The second trainer ended the conversation and came to the middle of the room. “Trainers. Have you gone over the rules with your slaves?” 

All the trainers nodded. A woman glared at her slave, then jerked the leash harshly, and the poor girl squeaked. A few of the trainers chuckled. 

“Alright. This is how this will work…” 

There were five stations, and you spent as long as they wanted you to at each station. Beck and I were sorted into different groups, which was a let down and a relief all at the same time. I wasn’t sure I could control myself if I were standing beside him, and frankly I was surprised they didn’t purposefully place us near one another for just that reason.   
The first station didn’t seem horrible, you simply wore a chest harness that supported a tray at your waist. They cuffed your hands behind your back and placed wine glasses on the tray. I knew that, naked, it would appear that my breasts were holding up the tray, but clothed it just seemed to house cloth bags. When I saw the first boy spill wine, I realized that it was easier to see wine stains on our white tunics than on our bare skin. For each stain, they told us, we received ten blows of the paddle. I still hadn’t decided which instrument of pain was my least favorite, but the paddle was certainly in the top three. 

The station Beck was at had him crawling on his hands and knees with a tray attached to his back. I could see the difficulty in that one. Another station had trays attached to each inner elbow, forcing you keep your arms out beside you and to hold position for however long it took fifteen wine glasses to go. The next had you lying still on a table while they placed hors d’oeuvres along your body. That one seemed okay, although many of the men were eating directly off the slaves’ bodies. Clothed, it was fine, but I could see how adding nudity to the situation would be horrifying. And that was the station were everything went to hell. 

I was lying there, perfectly still after a bit of wrestling to get me down, and I glanced over to see Beck at the arm station, his chest rising and falling slowly as he struggled to keep his arms still and even. The food was placed along me and I managed to be good the entire time they were eating it off of me. But then, out of nowhere, one of the trainers climbed onto the table and straddled me, his knees pinning my arms to my sides and his penis dangling over my face, touching my nose. 

“Open up.” 

“No!” jerked my face away, bucking my body and trying to wiggle from his grasp. He laughed, grabbing my jaw and forcing it open as I kneed him in the back, over and over again. “Stop!” I screamed. “Don’t touch me!” 

“Hey!” Beck’s voice. The shattering of glasses. “Hey! Stop it! Let her go!” 

“Boy, get back over here.” 

“Leave my sister alone!”

“I said shut up.” 

“Come on, missy, open that pretty little mouth!” 

I’d stopped screaming so he wouldn’t be able to shove it in. My jaw firmly clamped, I fought his fingers as they dug in, trying to find pressure points. 

Someone grabbed my legs… familiar hands. Isaac. Held my ankles down. And then the whip of a switch across the bottoms of my feet. Added to my current welts, it was excruciating. 

“Ah!” I screamed, and he stuck it in. 

“Get off of her!” 

“I said shut up, Beckett!” Lance’s voice. “Or I’ll make you whip her yourself. 

Another hit with the switch. I tried to jerk away, but Isaac held me fast. I closed my eyes tightly, not wanting to look into that man’s black eyes or see his scruffy face. His penis was huge, and even though I’m pretty sure I’d had it in my mouth before, it was harder not to gag when I was lying down like this. Everything in me wanted to bite him, but I was terrified of what they’d do to Beckett, who was already probably in so much trouble as he continued to scream and fight. 

And then, “Hey. Get off of her!” a new voice. An older voice. “I just bought her.”


	8. Chapter 8

River 

 

What? 

“This is Mr. Everett.” Clipboard Guy came over. “He just purchased this one. Let her off the table and get her tied up.” 

“Not even giving me the cuffs?” the new guy scoffed. I tried to look over at him, but my mouth was still full, and it was hard to move my head. Terror filled my chest. He’d bought me? I was leaving Beck? When the man finally pulled out, I turned my neck, sharply, searching for my brother. But they were blocking my way, the men, and I couldn’t see him. Somewhere behind them, I could hear his muffled protests... they must have gagged him. 

“No.” I shook my head, as strong arms lifted me up and plopped me on my feet. “No, please! No!”

The collar came off. New cuffs and chains, keeping my hands behind my back and my feet just far enough apart to walk, but too close together to run. Then my old cuffs came off. “Please!” I glanced up to the man with Clipboard Guy. “Please, you have to-“ but then the bit gag cut my words off, and I only fought to look around them, for Beckett. I was trying so hard to fight, so hard to get free, even knowing that there was nowhere to go if I accomplished that. 

Isaac came over and was conferring with the men, and I could finally see Lance, dragging a restrained and gagged Beckett to the back wall. Finally, I caught his glance. We looked at each other, tears pouring down my face as I continued to scream and thrash out. His body was tense, but he wasn’t fighting. He was just trying to get Lance to pay him attention. 

“I’ll meet you in the hallway.” The man told the trainer holding me, as he continued to go over what I assumed to be my chart with Isaac. Not that I would miss the trainer. That bastard. 

Passed on to a guard, I shuffled towards the doorway, trying to keep my eyes on Beckett. What if this was the last time I ever saw him? What if we were sold off on opposite ends of the country and we died before ever reuniting? Sobs shook my body at the thought, and he continued to pull away from his trainer, who held him tightly with one hand, an amused look on his face. 

They were loving this. I hated them all. 

And then I was in the hallway, and the door shut behind us, but my fighting never ceased. The guard rolled his eyes and grabbed my hair. “Give it a rest.” 

I whimpered, and he loosened his hold, but didn’t let go. We only waited for a moment before a woman walked over and stopped in front of us. “Is this her?” 

“Yes, Mrs. Everett. Your husband just purchased her.” 

“Alright. Is he coming out soon?” 

“Yes ma’am. Just talking with Isaac.” 

“Isaac.” From the corner of my eye, I could see her wrinkle her nose, but I was too angry to look at her. I just wanted to get out of here and go to sleep. Would they let me sleep? Usually Isaac didn’t. 

The door opened, and the man came out with Clipboard Guy. 

“Thank you for your business, Mr. Everett. I hope she works out for you. Don’t forget to stop by Accounting before you head out.” 

The man nodded and came over to us. He stopped in front of me and crossed his arms, eyes bearing down hard. “Look at me.” He ordered. 

I looked up at him, the most hateful look I could muster in my eyes. 

“Oh dear.” The woman sighed. “Sweetie…” 

“Trust me, Cara.” His eyes never left mine. Then, he reached forward. I flinched, stepping back into my guard, twisting my face. But the blow never game. Instead, he pulled my gag down my chin and gave me a look. “What exactly is it that I ‘have to’ do?” 

For a second, I was confused. The correct answer was “nothing”. He was an owner. Technically, he didn’t “have to” do anything. But then I remembered the last thing I’d said before the gag. I'd said: “Please, you have to-“ before they'd silenced me. Swallowing, I replied tightly, "My brother. You have to buy him. Keep us together." 

His eyebrows shot to the sky in mock surprise. “Wow. Interesting. And I take it your brother was the one they were holding back from killing me?” 

I nodded, smirking, proudly. 

“Alright. Well, your first expression was correct. I don’t ‘have to’ do anything.” He pushed the gag back in and turned to the guard. “Take her to the lobby. We’ll finish up and get her on our way out.” 

 

Beckett

 

So that was that. River was gone and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. My father… what would he think? What did River think? Was she upset? Angry that I didn’t fight harder? 

But I had to keep my record clean. I had to get out when I was twenty five. Otherwise we’d never see each other again. Not like the trainer could take both of us. 

I think I stood there, shell shocked, for a solid two minutes. My mouth hung limb around the rag he’d shoved in my mouth and my eyes stared wildly at the ground. I guess my brain just couldn’t process the fact that there was a very good chance that River was gone forever. 

“Is that Beckett?” the man was back, suddenly, a woman with him. Lance gripped the back of my neck. 

“Yeah. Why?” 

They both looked me over, and the woman raised her eyebrows. “Can you lift his tunic up so I can see underneath?” 

I closed my eyes as Lance picked up the bottom and showed them, then turned me around to display my butt. When I was pulled back to face them, they were conferring quietly among themselves, and then the woman nodded. She smiled at Lance. “We’d like to meet with him in an audition room.” 

Lance frowned. “What in the world?” 

“Just do it, Lance.” The woman snapped, and then the two of them walked out. Lance shoved me forward, following them as quickly as the two of us could keep up. Past the confused trainees, past the trainers. Past the guards. Down the hallway, and into a small room with a bed in one corner, a couch in another, and a table in the center, with four chairs around it. “Cuff him to the table and take out the gag.” The man told Lance. I kind of liked Lance being bossed around. It was nice. 

When my trainer left, I kept my eyes down, my mouth closed. 

“You’re different from your sister.” The woman noticed. They both sat across from me, and I relaxed a bit, thankful that they were no longer towering over me like everyone else in my new life. 

“She doesn’t have a younger sibling to protect, Miss.” I told her, softly. 

They both moved, and the man said, “We’ll address that issue later. For now, I’d like you to look at me, Beckett.” 

I looked up at the both of them. They weren’t terribly old, maybe thirty four or five at the most. The woman had long, dark, hair that was braided to one side, curls falling out. Her eyes were bright and blue as she searched my face with interest. She kept her lips thin, as if she was trying to keep herself from speaking. She had on a thin, linen, green dress that made her look even younger, and as if she frequented an island. The man was wearing a tunic with a pair of leather pants. His hair was dark as well, and full, his eyes green, his skin tan. He was handsome, and she was beautiful. 

“My name is Logan Everett. This is my wife, Cara. I’m a slave trainer, exclusively sex slaves.” He amended. “And I have a very specific client in mind who I believe would be a perfect match for River. My training methods are quite different from what they do here. I believe that slaves must know their place. They should be punished for disobedience. They are property. However, a slave who knows their place, who knows what punishments to expect, and who knows they are safe as their master’s property is a good slave. And to create a good slave, communication is important. Explaining to the slave who, what, when, where, why, and how is key to them understanding their place in this world. A good slave creates a happy master, and a happy master makes a good slave. So I do not plan to take your sister over and over until she is broken into a useless hole to be used. Instead, I want her to love her owner, and to make her owner love her. She is to be protected, cared for, but to serve and obey and worship. Are you with me so far, Beckett?” 

I nodded, but it was a lie. Only because I believed he was lying. “Yes sir.” 

“Just after I procured your sister, she asked me to purchase you as well.” 

My head hung, and I closed my eyes. She was in trouble. I was the reason she was in trouble. 

“And the interesting thing is that I can actually make that happen.” 

My head shot back up, my eyes wide, my mouth closed shut to keep me from ruining this. 

“You see, Beckett, my wife is also a trainer, and happens to be without a client at the moment. So, if she so wished, she could chose a slave to train and sell them to someone we choose.” 

I glanced over. Yes. A woman. That was exactly what I wanted… to keep my sexual orientation. I opened his mouth, but the man – Logan - cut me off. 

“Now now, before you say, ‘Yes sir. Please, sir. Anything to keep us together.’ I want you to think about some things.” He gave me a long, hard look before going on. “You’re still sex slaves. You’ll still be in the same house. You’ll be kneeling before us at meals. You’ll be naked. You’ll be servicing us… maybe at the same time in the same bed. We won’t force you to do anything to one another, but we’re also not going to deny ourselves the joys that owning slaves permits. Do you understand me?” 

Swallowing, I nodded. So far, River and I had managed to keep our eyes off of one another. On the one hand, I could see his point. Seeing my sister nude seemed so incredibly wrong. But on the other hand, I thought, okay. But wouldn’t it be equally horrible if we ran into one another in the market, naked? Besides, it’s just bodies. We’d be seeing plenty of those. Not like we didn’t bathe together as toddlers. 

“Next, because I’m sure you’ve decided that staying together is worth the nudity, and humiliation of possibly seeing one another worship us, be fed by us, and possibly service us, I’d like you to consider this: The chances of you and your sister being sold together are incredibly small. I already have her buyer lined up and the buyer is very straight. He has no interest in males.” 

That was a relief, that River was going to a man. 

“So if you’d like, I can leave you here, rip the band aid off, and go ahead and split you up. No sense in creating false hope. No sense in thinking ‘well, we’ve managed to stick together this long. Maybe, just maybe…’ Beckett… it’s not going to happen. But you can delay in the inevitable, if you so choose.” 

Suddenly my brain snapped into action. “Wait, sir, you’re letting me choose?” 

The woman smiled at me. “Dear, we’ll almost always let you choose. But remember, consequences follow your actions. Some are good, some are bad. And I think, in this case, there are both for each choice. You have to decide: which pros and cons are worth it? Giving your sister up, freeing her from the bondage of worrying about you? Letting her live her life? Or staying together for the small amount of comfort in the small amount of time?” 

I swallowed. “Will we be allowed to see one another?” 

The man crossed his arms. “Maybe. Eventually. But it won’t be the same. You’ll be with us, constantly. There will be no privacy.” 

But that was still better than here. Anything was better than here. And I’d be with a woman. 

“May I ask a question?” I looked at them. 

The woman, Cara, nodded. 

“Do you think it’s selfish of me, to keep us together, to not go ahead and rip off the band aid? Because not only do I want to be with my sister, I also want to leave here and be with a woman. I mean, if I have to be a slave.” 

She wrinkled her nose, leaned forward, and took my hands. “I think that’s a decision you need to make for yourself.” 

But her gentle touch made it for me. 

“I want to go with River.” 

I want to go with River. 

It was very possibly the last choice I would ever make for myself. Well… us, really, since she was going to be heavily affected by this as well. 

And then everything began to change. Logan was out the door, one hand on the frame, calling down the hallway. “Harrison! Hey! Come here!” 

Clipboard Guy – Harrison – returned, frowning. “What are you doing? Did you change your mind about the girl?” 

“How much for the boy?” 

“The girl isn’t as much of a trouble maker as she-“ 

“Cara wants the boy.” 

“You know they’re siblings…” 

“Harrison. For God’s sake. How much is he?” 

The man glanced over at me, like he wasn’t sure about any of this. “One hundred.” 

A scoff from both Cara and Logan. “He’s barely made it through three weeks of training.” 

It had felt like a life time.

“He’s handsome. He’s young. Not too young.” 

“We’re not blind, Harrison.” Logan led him all the way in and they shut the door. “But we’re also not stupid. I’m not paying one hundred. Ninety, maybe.” 

“Ninety eight.” 

“Ninety five.” 

They stared at one another like old colleagues who knew the other wouldn’t back down. Finally, Harrison wavered. I was kind of pleased. “Fine. Ninety five thousand. But don’t expect any favors from me any time soon.” 

 

“We never do.” Cara stood, primly, wiping her hands over the back of her dress as if cleansing her clothes from the disgust of our chairs. Their chairs. I didn’t live here anymore. “Get the papers. We need to be on our way.” 

Harrison nodded. “I’ll send my men in to ready the boy.” And then he hurried out. 

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Everett.” I looked up at them. “Really.” 

Logan smirked. “Don’t be thanking me just yet.” 

The guards walked in, their looks almost sad as they came over and uncuffed me from the table, one of them freeing me from my bonds and the other holding me tightly so I wouldn’t get any ideas. “I want him tied up too tightly to move a muscle.” Logan told them. “We’ll carry him out.” 

My jaw dropped. What about caring for me? Making me feel safe? Had all of that been a lie?

“Gag him. I don’t want any sound coming from his mouth.” 

The ropes burned against my skin as I stared at my new mistress and master, confused. Why was he suddenly treating me like… well, like a slave? The guards were doing their jobs, my ankles were pressed together so tightly I couldn’t have pulled them away from each other if I tried, and when they moved up to my wrists, I felt my shoulders nearly being wrenched from their sockets. 

“Hey! Careful! Don’t cut off his blood supply, don’t dislocate anything. You can keep him from moving without harming him.” Logan snapped, just as Harrison walked back in. They congregated around the table and began filling out paperwork. 

“He’s nineteen, clean bill of health, very good behavior record, but he’s been challenging since he arrived.” 

“Well, his parents died and he and his sister became slaves, so.” Cara raised her eyebrows, as if she was annoyed with Harrison. These people were so strange. “Have his trainer fax over his file. Who was his trainer?” She added on. 

“Lance.” 

Cara wrinkled her nose. “No wonder he’s filthy.” 

I was filthy? I hadn’t even noticed. Covered in wine stains, maybe. Smelled like men and women’s private parts, maybe. Okay. Yeah. I was filthy. 

She and Logan signed the forms, and then Harrison smiled at her. “Bill your account?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Mine, for him, Logan’s for her.” 

I felt something pressing against my mouth and I opened my lips, reflexively. A ball gag. Gross. The leather straps bit into the sides of my face and the back of my head as it was locked in place. The guard threw Cara the key. “Alright, darling.” She looked to Logan. “I’ll take him. You go fetch River?” 

He nodded and walked off. I tried to smile behind the gag. River. I was going to see River. 

“Pick him up, follow me.” She told the guards. One of the men threw me over his shoulder, his bones pushing into my stomach. I coughed. We walked down a long hallway, past a few doors the guard had to swipe us through, and then outside. I blinked in the bright daylight, felt the sun shining on my bare buttocks as my tunic slid down my back. We stopped at a car, and I heard a hatch being lifted, but couldn’t see from my position. Actually, my eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. I probably couldn’t see anything if I wanted to. 

“Put him in that.” 

That? Like… the car? Or like…

He slid me down, placing my feet on the ground for just a second as he adjusted his grip, and then I was being laid down inside a… yep. It was a cage. A long, thin cage that allowed me to lay down and bend absolutely nothing. I bucked, pulling away, fighting. But Cara tutted. 

“Beckett. Darling. Listen to me. Normally you’d be with us up front, okay? But River can’t know we purchased you, not yet. So just for right now, I need you to be a good boy and be still. Lay down, don’t fight, and be absolutely silent. No matter what you hear in the car. If you mess up River’s first training session, we might have to take measures we didn’t plan on taking. I promise. Logan does this all the time. Trust us. And when we get home, I’ll let you out as soon as River has been put in her room and you’ll never have to be in this awful cage again. Okay?” 

I stared up at her, brow furrowed. I wanted so desperately to believe her, but my claustrophobia… 

“Beckett. I don’t want to punish you, but I will.” Her tone was soft, like my mom’s had been. “Beckett, you didn’t clean your room. You can’t go to Simon’s tonight.” 

With a short nod, I made my decision and went still. He laid me down, shut the lid, and locked it. Cara touched the bars. “That’s my good boy. Now remember, not a peep.” 

I nodded again. 

She smiled. “I’ll go turn on the air conditioning so you don’t swelter. I’ll just be in the driver’s seat. He’ll be out in just a minute. Home isn’t far. You’ll be fine.” 

I nodded, then stopped myself. Stop, you idiot. She doesn’t care if you understand or agree with her. She just wants you to keep your moans to yourself so their little plan isn’t ruined. 

The hatch shut, the illusion of something so large being thrown at me made me flinch. Then, it was quiet for a few seconds before another door opened, the car started, and then beautiful, glorious air conditioning. 

 

River

 

I waited in the lobby with my stupid guard for what felt like an eternity. What did these people do? Buy me and then immediately forget about me? But then… maybe they’d gotten Beckett. Maybe that’s what had taken so long! He’d listened to my pleas and bought my brother! 

But no… there came the man, a content look on his face as he smirked at the clipboard guy and was walked out of the back hallway. No Beckett in sight. And no wife. Maybe the wife had Beck? 

When the other man left, my new “owner” turned to me, looking interested. “I can take her from here.” he told the guard, then reached over and grabbed my arm. I glanced around, and he raised his eyebrows. “My wife? She got the car. Come on.” 

I took a deep breath. There was still a chance that Beck was in the car. 

We stepped outside, his grip tight on my upper arm, and he led me over to a car that had been pulled up in front of the door. My eyes were squinting in the unmerciful light, and it wasn’t until we were standing beside the back door of the SUV that I realized what was so awful about all of this. 

There was only one person in the car, and it wasn’t my brother. 

I pulled away, fast enough that I managed to actually free myself. I guess I’d shocked him, because it took him almost a full second to realize what I’d done and come after me. “River! No!” 

I’m not really sure what my plan was. My hands were cuffed behind me, and my ankles were cuffed together. So not only could I not run, but I also couldn’t even open the door I was trying to run back through. The door to hell. 

No. The door to Beckett. 

But then big hands on my small shoulders. A grasp so tight it made me cry out. nails cutting through my tunic and into my skin. He adjusted me, got an arm around my waist, and then carried me the three feet to the car, careful not to let me headbutt him in the chin. He shoved me into the floorboard of the backseat, setting me down so I was kneeling at his feet. Of course. 

The door shut, and I glanced at each exit, my brow furrowing. Something was missing. 

“They don’t open from the inside.” He told me. “We removed the handles. So you might as well just sit down, take some deep, deep breaths, and resign yourself to the fact that I just rescued you from hell.” 

With everything in me, I did as he said. If he was telling the truth, I wasn’t getting out of this car until it stopped and his wife opened the door, so I might as well save my energy for when we arrived at our destination. Maybe then I’d have more luck. 

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he asked me, holding out a small sack that he then pulled a water bottle and half of a sandwich from. I was. My stomach churned at seeing real food, but I shook my head. I wasn’t taking anything from this man. He sighed. “You’re not doing yourself any favors, you know. Refusing to eat or drink. If you were going to make a run for it, don’t you think you’d better be fed up and rested?” 

I was too angry for his logic. Besides, I think we both knew I wasn’t going to successfully get away. Not yet, anyway. 

“Come on, River. Just a sip of water.” He held the bottle out so I could see it with my eyes straight ahead of me. “You have to be thirsty. I saw what that awful man did to you and I just want to help you wash that taste away. Don’t you want that? For me to take care of you?” 

I glared up at him, and he gave me a small, knowing smile. His free hand reached out, and my eyes followed it until it went out my line of sight, behind my head. I trembled, feeling his fingers in my hair, trying to pull away, but he gripped my locks tight and held me. Take care of me? I wasn’t stupid. I knew what he wanted. 

But then the gag came off. The bottle was raised to my lips, and water, cool, glorious water, teased my tongue. He didn’t force it, he was waiting on me to accept it on my own. And in that moment, I gave in. I wasn’t going to reject something I needed. God, it tasted so good, so cold, so nice. My tongue couldn’t get enough, and I nearly choked, but he pulled back just a little, his hands in my hair, gently. “Shh. Careful. Slowly.” 

My throat seemed soak it all in like a sponge, and when I finally finished the last drop, he produced another one and made me drink it even more slowly. Then, he held out the sandwich, and I shook my head, not wanting to be fed like a dog. But he reached behind me again and unchained my wrists, and I stared up at him, shocked. Who was this man? And did he realize I was a slave? 

But then he just handed me the sandwich and looked up at his wife as I began eating, suddenly terrified that this was all a joke and he was going to take it away from me. Or that I was woefully mistaken by his intent and he was going to punish me for eating this sandwich that I was supposed to be… not eating? 

But whatever. I was probably in for a good caning when we got back because I’d fought so much on the way out, so I might as well have something on my stomach to vomit back onto him. 

“Did you go meet with Keegan last week?” she asked him, glancing back at him in the rear view mirror. 

He shook his head. “I didn’t have a chance.” His fingers were carding through my hair, and I wondered when that had started. I was so busy eating that I hadn't noticed his gentle, actually GENTLE, touch. It felt good. 

His wife chuckled. “Well then what did you do the entire week while I was gone?” 

“Listen. It took a while to get Nathan over to Colleen’s because she didn’t have everything on the list ready. Plus, Nate was yours. He was nervous without you and I hadn’t dealt with Colleen.” 

“I’ll stop by in a few days and check on him. Make sure they’re doing okay. Have you heard back from Ty?” 

“Yeah. He rang yesterday morning. Marianna’s finally got a date in mind, so they’re checking to make sure it’ll work.” 

“Good.” The woman seemed pleased, her voice had a ring of excitement in it. “Oh, did I tell you? I saw Liam.” 

“Did you?” the man made a face. “He’s still not in prison?” I winced at his tone, but his hands never tightened, they simply kept running through my hair, gently. 

“Oh, darling.” She chuckled. “Just because you disagree with his philosophy in life doesn’t mean he should be locked away.” 

He scoffed. “I think you know how I feel. Are you done?” 

I took me a second to realize he was talking to me, and when I did look up at him, I crossed my arms. “Unless there’s more?” 

The man grinned. “No. I’m sorry. But we’ll be home soon and dinner’s in about an hour so I think you can survive until then. Now, let’s get those hands back behind you.” 

I jerked away, stumbling back onto my feet and hands, and he sighed. “River, I’m not going to hurt you. All I’m doing is cuffing your hands back to help you maintain some self control. Right now you feel like you need to fight back, not because you want to, but because that’s what you think you’re supposed to do. But it’s not. You can work with me and this can be a fairly painless process for us both. So get back on your knees, put your hands behind your back, and don’t bite me when I lean over you.” 

But I didn’t move. 

“I’m trying to help you. If your hands are uncuffed, you’ll be tempted to do something to make you feel like you have control. And you do have control… control over whether or not I punish you. The last thing I want to do is start this whole thing off with a punishment, but I will.” 

Swallowing, I frowned. So I wasn’t already getting a punishment? But this would do it? Well… if I could avoid being beaten… maybe…

Bowing my head, I rocked back onto my knees and placed my hands by my sides where he could reach them. He breathed out, relaxed, and took my hands carefully in his, gently cuffing them behind me. Then, he grabbed the gag off the floor and my head jerked upward, my eyes locking on his. “Don’t!” I cried, then, seeing his startled face, added, “Please.” Crap. There I went. Getting in trouble. 

“I wasn’t.” he smiled, reaching forward to stuff it in the bag. “I was just putting it away. Wouldn’t want those chapped lips to get any worse.” 

 

Beckett

 

This man was almost being nice to my sister. I mean, he put her in her place, sure, but it was almost like he really was caring for her. Already, in the past hour, he’d bought me like she’d asked him to, not laid a single hand on her as far as I could hear after she tried to run and fought him to get into the car, fed her, and let her drink two water bottles. And then he explained to her why he was cuffing her again, and it actually made sense. 

Maybe I was just going crazy. 

Cara hadn’t lied. Their house was close, so close, in fact, that I hadn’t even had a chance to start panicking about my tiny cage. 

And when the car had stopped, and the doors opened, and River had started resisting and crying out, they had shushed her gently, promised her they weren’t going to hurt her, and coaxed her from the car like a baby kitten. And then it was quiet. 

Only a few minutes later, the hatch opened and Cara was there with another man… a boy really, couldn’t have been too much older than me. He wore a dark blue tunic and had bronze cuffs around his limbs, with a dull bronze collar around his neck. His curly black hair made him seem almost like Cara’s son, and his freckled face made him almost comical. “Geez, Mistress. What did he do?” 

“Nothing, Ryan. I’ll tell you about it later. Let’s just get him up to his room, okay?” 

He nodded. She leaned forward and unlocked the cage, then backed away so Ryan could gingerly lean forward and scoop me up. I was being carried by another guy. I looked away, humiliated. 

“He’s light as a feather. Do they starve them?” 

She sighed. “Yes. Thank the heavens you ended up with us.” But her tone was teasing. 

Ryan chuckled. “I always do, Mistress.” 

The yard was nice, shady, full of trees, and the house was big, an upper middle class home settle probably just a tad outside the city. They’d driven here, so it couldn’t have been downtown, where cars still weren’t permitted. We went inside, to a well-lit foyer with soothing blues on the walls, instantly calming me. Then up a wide staircase. Down a hallway. And into a small room. 

“Where do you want him?” 

“Just on the floor. Carefully.” She reminded him. 

He chuckled. “When am I not careful?” 

“Ryan.” She scolded, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I just want him to be unharmed.” 

“There.” Ryan laughed, pulling his hands out from between me and the floor. “He’s unharmed.” Then his tone changed, but only a bit. “Anything I can get you?” 

“Yes. He’s probably hungry and thirsty.” 

“Right away.” He walked out, and she shut the door behind herself, locking it and then turning to me. She came over and knelt down beside me, helping me sit up against the headboard of the bed and then leaned forward and unlocked my gag with a key.

“Sorry about that horrid thing.” She told me, helping me pop it out of my mouth and then tossed it away as if it were a snake. “Now, I’d like to have another conversation, much like the one at the center. Do you think you need to be restrained for this, or do you think you and I can be civil?” 

I swallowed, trying to think. My brain was so muddled. 

“How about this?” she seemed to see I was having too much trouble processing. “Why don’t I untie your feet, and then we walk over to the table, and then I cuff your hands down like at the center, but loose enough for you to eat when Ryan brings you something back? Hmm?” 

That seemed good. I didn’t want to promise I wouldn’t try to break away from her the first chance I got, but I also didn’t want these ropes biting into me a second longer, so it sounded like an acceptable deal. I nodded. 

“Beckett.” Her voice was low and gentle. “I know that your mouth is probably dry, and your head hurts, and you’re tired… but when I ask you a question, I do require a verbal answer with ‘Mistress’ somewhere inside of it. Okay? So let’s try that again. Does my plan work for you?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” I coughed out. 

She didn’t seem upset than my throat was dry, she just smiled and ran her fingers through my hair before saying, “That’s my good boy,” and then leaning down and untying my ankles, keeping them tight in her hands and looking up at me. I gave her the most genuine look I could muster that said “I won’t kick you. Swear.” And then she let go and stood, helping me to my feet as well. 

For the first time, I glanced around myself. While the room wasn’t impressive in size, everything in it was impressive in itself. The four poster bed with rich colored pillows and blankets. The oak table with two carved chairs on either side. The mahogany wardrobe just beside the opening for the most immaculate bathroom I’ve ever seen. Glass shower with multiple heads. Sunk-in tub with the promise of jets. A long counter with two sinks and bright lights. Surely a toilet hidden around a corner somewhere. 

She sat me down in a seat and then turned away, reaching over to the wardrobe and unlocking it with a key. She pulled out five bands, and I knew immediately what they were. Then, she locked it back and returned, setting them on the table in front of me. Bronze. With key holes in the back. Restraint rings on each piece. The symbol of their house etched in. “Are you ready for these?” she asked me. “Or do you think you need more time?” 

I’d chosen to come here. I was staying until River left. I nodded. Then, before she could open her mouth, I said, “Yes, Mistress. I’m ready.” 

“A precise, clear answer. The truth.” She smiled. “Good boy. You’re learning. Okay, here we go.” She grabbed the collar first, walking behind me and fitting it perfectly on my neck. Then, she closed the metal together and I heard a “click” as the lock engaged. Then the ankle cuffs. And the wrist cuffs. And then a nice sized chain which she looped through the ring at the table and clipped to each of my cuffs, both with tiny padlocks. 

The ropes fell away, and she threw them in the trash, along with the ball gag that she barely managed to hold onto long enough to move it from the floor to the can. And finally, she sat back down across from me and smiled. “Beckett. You are a beautiful boy. And I think that this was not a coincidence. No one deserves to be in that place, and if I could rescue you all, I would. But I can’t, so I’m glad to at least be able to help you, prepare you, and hopefully find a good home for you. First of all,” she clasped her hands together in front of herself and set them on the table before looking back up at me. “Our home has locks on every door, and each door requires a special key. Logan and I, of course, have access to every room. Ryan and Ellie have limited access, I’ll tell you about them later. You and your sister will not be here long enough to need a key. If you are locked in a room, I expect you to remain there patiently until you are let out. if a door is locked that you wish to enter, you will have to reconcile with the fact that you are not permitted into that room. All of the exterior doors and windows are locked and alarmed at all times. You cannot escape from this house. Am I clear on that?” 

I swallowed, not wanting to believe her, but forcing myself to respond as best I could. “Yes, Mistress.” 

She nodded. “Now, you and your sister present a unique case. We’ve never had siblings before, of different genders, that were not predestined for the same master. So I’d like to just make a few things clear right off the bat. We will not threaten one of you to get the other to comply. For a few reasons. First of all, you belong to me, and River belongs to Logan. I don’t touch his things without his say, he doesn’t touch mine. Second, there’s no sense in damaging a slave that has done nothing wrong as punishment for something another slave has done. You wouldn’t break your toy train because your whistle stopped working. So you can rest assured that you will be held responsible for your own actions, and River will be held responsible for hers.” 

That actually made me wince. I wanted to take River’s punishments for her, and out of the two of us, I knew she’d be the troublemaker. 

“And finally, we plan on teaching you to be independent of one another. Just as we stated in the interview room, you two won’t be staying together, and you need to learn to live as if the other is no longer in your life. To use threats and deflecting punishments onto the other sibling would only hinder that goal. Are you tracking?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” 

“Very good. Next, you will continue to call me Mistress, Logan Master, anyone outside this family ‘Sir’ or ‘Ma’am’, and my slaves by their names. We have two, Ryan is a housekeeper, of sorts. He cleans, serves, runs errands, does the laundry, things like that. And then we have Ellie. She’s our cook. We have no hierarchy in our household, so you don’t have to obey them, or anything, but everyone is to be treated with respect, and that goes for you and your sister as well. Although, they’re both very intelligent and have been with Logan and I for a long time. So if they offer you advice, I’d take it.” She winked and then settled back in her seat. “You are mine, so while I expect you to obey Logan, you are to look to me for your needs, for questions, and pretty much everything else. We do work together to train, but he has a deadline with your sister, and there is a good chance he won’t be terribly involved with you as long as she’s here. Still with me?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” 

Just then, there was a knock on the door and it opened without waiting for a response from Cara. Ryan smiled, a tray in hand. My heart seemed to fill my chest as I saw a loaded sandwich, a side of chips, and a bowl of soup. However, when Ryan set the tray before me, it was the glass of water that called to my thirst. I reached out, my hands grasping the cool glass, before I heard a sharp tsk. “Beckett, love,” Cara called me from my excitement. I looked up at her, frowning. Now what had I done? “Just because food was placed before you does not mean you have permission to eat it.” 

Oh. I pulled my hands away reluctantly from the glass and let my eyes settle back in my lap. “Sorry, Mistress.” 

“Beckett.” She said, once more, softly. “When you speak to me, do not mumble. Articulate, enunciate, be respectful, and tell me why you are sorry so I know that you understand and aren’t simply just saying that because you think I’m upset. Let’s try your apology again.” 

Swallowing, I looked up, too aware that Ryan was still watching. “I’m sorry, Mistress, for trying to eat before I was given permission.” I hoped she didn’t hear the bite in my words. How dare I be denied to eat without first asking someone. 

She glanced up at Ryan. “I’ll bring it down later. Thanks, dear.” 

He nodded. “Will you be having dinner downstairs with Master?” 

“I will. But it may be a while for us both.” 

“Yes, Mistress.” He glanced once more at me and then left. 

Her gaze returned to me and suddenly it was tense. “Beckett, I know that the past few weeks have been hard. I know how they feed you there. And I’m not even trying to be some guardian angel who saved you and is allowing you to eat on your own. In fact, any meal you eat with me will be from my hand. But I wanted you to relax, to have control over this one thing, before we get started. However, you cannot simply just begin eating without my permission. I don’t expect you to understand it yet. Just accept it.” 

There was a lump in my throat, and suddenly I wanted to cry. Her tone, or the fact that I was here now, or how small I felt sitting across from this woman… either way, tears welled up in my eyes, and I turned away, embarrassed. 

“Hey. Don’t leave me.” She told me, carefully. “It’s okay. You can eat now, Beckett.” 

I nodded. I knew I should probably thank her, but I couldn’t bear it. 

“Think you can listen while I go on?” she asked. 

“Yes, Mistress.” 

“Good boy. Now, you are not permitted to talk unless you are directly asked a question. If you need to ask a question, or tell me something, say ‘Mistress?’ and I will respond if I am willing to listen. It’s not that I don’t want you to know things, it’s simply that there are times when I am terribly busy, even if it does not appear so. Or I might be trying to teach you something. But ask me once, and only once. I tune in on you, so I will never not hear you if you are nearby.” 

I nodded. 

“This is my training room. I’ll stay here with you until you are ready to leave it. I may take my meals with Logan, or join him in our bedroom, but most of the time I will be here, with you. We will usually sleep in the bed together, but there is a pallet on the floor that I will have you sleep in when I’m in the mood. Sometimes your mistress will want her space, but will still want you close at hand. Each morning we will rise, groom in the bathroom, and then dine together at this table. One day, hopefully soon, we will venture out into the house and you will be able to do that for the remainder of your training. I might even let you accompany Ryan to the market.” She smiled. “As most owners do, I will make use of cages and plugs.” 

To no avail, I tried to keep the disappointment from my face. 

“However, they are not punishments, but tools to keep you ready for your owner.” 

“Mistress?” I asked, during her pause. 

She nodded. 

“Why the plug? You don’t have a… well, I mean… you don’t-“ 

“I’m not a man?” she smirked. “Well, Beckett, you’re very right. And soon I’ll explain all of that to you. But for now, let me keep on. I will allow you an orgasm, but you must learn to control them, so they will be on my terms.” She must have seen the confusion on my face, and she rolled her eyes. “Not that you’ve probably ever had one you enjoyed. Don’t worry. That will be taught as well.” She smiled again. “No matter. Each day when we groom, I will decide what you wear. Some days I will allow clothes, others I won’t. You must get used to both. After a while, I won’t use a chastity belt unless you’re out in public. I’ll trust you to keep the plug in. The cages lock and only I will be able to get you out of them. When we wash, I will wash you and I will do your enema, for now, at least. Eventually I may allow you some control over your grooming, but I like to start off doing it for you so you know what to expect. When you don’t know where to be, kneel before me. Anytime we are stopped and I am not speaking directly to you, kneel before me. If I wish you to sit with me or join me on furniture, I will invite you to do so. Otherwise, kneel on the floor.” 

I took my last sip of soup and relished in the flavor. 

“Now, Beckett, are you full?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” 

“Very good. I’m going to uncuff you and take your tray downstairs, and then I’m going to meet my husband for dinner. While I’m away, I’d like you to familiarize yourself with your surroundings, but don’t try to get into anything that’s locked. Please relieve yourself and take a shower. You may nap too, if you wish. But when I return, our doctor’s going to have a look at you both, and then we’re going to bed. Okay?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” I was beginning to sound like a broken record.


	9. Chapter 9

River

 

This man – his wife called him Logan – practically carried me into his house and up the stairs once the car finally stopped. I’d fought, twisted, screamed, cried, but he gripped my arms and ushered me forward in a strange, big bear hug. When we got to the stairs and I resisted once more, and it was obvious my leg chains weren’t helping the situation, he simply threw me over his shoulder and carried me up to the second floor, down the hallway, and through a door that he locked behind him. 

Then, he set me on the floor and squatted down, eyeing me. “Alright, love. This is your new home." I glanced around, feeling like an idiot. For one second in the car, I’d imagined I’d be sleeping in his fancy rich person bed and eating bon bons… but here I was, back in a tiny closet of a room, completely bare except for a bucket that I assumed was for me to “go” in. No bed. Nothing. 

“Now, River. We’re going to take this very, very slow. Okay? In a sense, I need you to unlearn everything those monsters taught you at the center and start all over with me. Can you do that?” 

I scoffed. “You act like you’re not just going to force yourself on me whenever you want anyway.” 

He made a face, shaking his head, slowly. “I’m not. Not for a while, anyway. Until the doctor clears you.” 

“The… doctor?” I asked, confused. 

“Of course. No telling what they did to you in there. The doctor will check you over, make sure everything is okay. But for now I’d like to talk.” 

But my head just shook from side to side. “Not in the mood, sorry.” 

Logan sat back on his butt and crossed his arms and legs. “River. I know that things have been really hard for you. And I love your spirit and the fight you have inside of you. And, I even imagine how hard it is for you to believe me when I tell you that I really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to take your spirit from you… I just want to channel it towards your new purpose. I think that you and I can come to an agreement where we decide to trust one another?” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone again.” 

He shook his head. “I don’t blame you. Honestly, if I were in your position I probably wouldn’t trust me either. But I really, really need you to. And you need you to, too. So let’s start over, okay? Hi, River, I’m Logan Everett. I’m your new owner and trainer. It’s very nice to meet you.” 

What was he doing? Why was he doing this? 

“Hopefully, you’ll really like it here.” he smiled at me, a genuinely friendly smile. “And you’ll learn everything you need to know to make your life a good one. Not all masters are like those bastards at the center. Sex can be wonderful for both of you.” 

I glared at the floor, too furious for words. 

“But like I said, we’re going to take it slow. So, just for tonight, I’m going to let you stay in here by yourself – if that’s what you want…” he held up his hands and searched my face. I gave him a glare that dared him to bother me, and he nodded. “Good. I’ll bring you food, uncuff you, you'll meet with the doctor, and then I'll let you sleep. Give you some time to process. And then tomorrow morning I’ll bring you breakfast and we’ll begin.” 

He left me to my dinner, not that I was terribly hungry. After the sandwich in the car and my stomach turning at leaving my brother, I wasn’t really big on finishing a tray of roasted chicken and vegetables. At least the food was better than at the centers, even if I was still resigned to eat it on the floor. At least I got to use my hands. Like a human. 

I’d had so much water… they left a whole pitcher, and I drank it down greedily. Then I’d filled the bucket. And finally, about an hour later, Logan reappeared. “Hey, River. The doc is here and would like to see you. I need you to go stand in that corner while he sets his table up, okay?” 

Or else what? And what if this doctor meant to hurt me? What if this was just a ploy for him to share me with his friends? I shook my head. 

He took a deep breath and motioned his buddy to follow him inside the room. The doctor wore a business suit, a coat, held a portable massage table in one hand and a big bag in another. The man’s hair was graying, and he was handsome and thin. He nudged the door shut with his foot and gave me a soft look all over. “Alright, River.” Logan held up his hands. “I’m coming over to you. I’m going to wrap you in my arms and take you to the corner where we’re going to wait while he sets up. No one’s going to hurt you, no one is going to do anything to you without telling you first.” 

“Don’t touch me.” I stepped back, towards the corner he wanted me to go to. He kept his hands up so I could see them, stepping towards me. 

“Hey, hey.” He called. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I just need to keep you from panicking. Let’s just go to the corner, come on.” 

“No!” I screamed, stepping away, but I wasn’t fast and I wasn’t healthy and he took the advantage and wrapped me up like he promised, one arm around my waist, one around my arms, pinning me into his chest. He carried me over to the corner and held me tight, blocking me in. 

“Stop fighting me, River. I brought someone in to help you. No one here wants to hurt you. We only want what’s best.” 

But still I jerked and tugged and hated the furious tears that burned in my eyes. Tears because maybe he really was trying to help me. Maybe he was right. Kind. 

The doctor cleared his throat after only a minute and Logan nodded, squeezing me a bit tighter, rubbing my arms with his hands, trying to shush me. “Okay, River. He’s going to look you over to make sure you’re okay. But we need to take this off.” His fingers tugged gently at my tunic, not forcing it off, just letting me know what was going on. “Can you handle that? You can do it yourself, if you want. Or I can, if you think you don’t want to.” 

I shook my head. “No.” 

“No you don’t want to do it yourself? Or no you don’t want me to?” 

“No I don’t want it coming off at all.” 

“He can’t examine you if you’re wearing clothes.” 

“He can go to hell.” 

“River.” His tone was calm. “We don’t use language like that in this house. And you do not speak that way of your betters. So let’s try this again. Your tunic is coming off. How would you like that to happen?” 

Which was better? Me undressing for them or them undressing me? 

I sniffled, still crying. “I’ll do it.” 

At least that way I only had myself to blame for being complicit in my own inevitable rape. 

He loosened his grip but didn’t really let me go, keeping me cornered. I pulled the tunic off and then used the hem of it to wipe my face off. At the center, I wasn’t awake when they took my clothes off. This was the first time I’d undressed for anyone, and I wanted it to be an unceremonious for them as it should have been for me. “That’s my good girl.” He ran his fingers through my hair before pulling them out and taking my dirty tunic. “Come on now. Over to the table.” He kept my arm in hand and walked me over to the folding table, helping me up and onto my stomach. The two of them worked together to strap my hands and feet down, but they did it with… care? It was gentle, like they were trying to make sure my limbs were secure but not hurting. 

Then, “You want me to check everything?” 

“Yeah. God only knows what Isaac did.” 

“Alright. Well, at first glance, look at the restraint marks around her wrists and ankles.” I felt a light touch on my left wrist, which hurt the worst. “This one looks old, like a sprain that didn’t heal correctly. I think that’s going to need surgery.” 

I scoffed outwardly. Like anyone would pay for a slave to have any surgery that wasn’t life threatening. But then Logan spoke up. “Okay. I can just call the office and schedule it?” 

“Sure, yeah. The sooner the better. I’d like to have this done by the end of next week so it doesn’t have any more time to get worse.” 

“Recovery time?” 

“Outpatient procedure. She’ll be groggy for half a day after, and then she’ll be in a cast for four to six weeks.” 

Logan had said he had a deadline with me. Four to six weeks would certainly not fit in there. My wrist was not going to be fixed. 

“Okay. Sounds good. I’ll call in the morning.” 

Nothing made sense anymore. 

“The rest of these look okay, just heavily bruised. Keep an eye on them and if any get worse let me know. These cuts… I’ll wash them tonight and then you’ll need to make sure they stay clean. But it looks like he managed to keep her organs fine… nothing around her kidneys, all the ribs look okay. This one on her shoulder looks the worst. Keep it clean and if it gets any redder let me know. It may be in the early stages of infection.” 

Logan mumbled in agreement. 

“Malnourished, of course, dehydrated. These are sores from laying down for a long time.” He brushed my sides. “Make sure she’s sleeping on her stomach for a few days at least, in a bed.” 

Joke was on him. The only bed in this room was the one he brought. 

“She needs to exercise. Some vitamin D.” 

“And her anus?” 

I tensed automatically, and heard Logan sigh. “He’s just checking on you. Calm down.” 

He was a lunatic if he thought I’d trust anyone who told me to calm down. 

The sound of lube being squirted from a bottle. Warm hands on my shoulders, rubbing gently. Cold fingers, prying between my cheeks. But it wasn’t harsh, greedy, or excited… it was slowly, carefully, gently. “Yeah, she’s torn. It’s not too bad, but I’d keep everything out of her for a week or so, at least. You see it?” he offered the sight to Logan, who hummed. “It’ll be obvious when it’s healed, so don’t feel like you need to wait on me.” The push of a finger. 

I grunted. 

“Shh.” Logan kept stroking my skin. But it wasn’t an order. He was…soothing me?

“It feels okay in here. They certainly weren’t gentle with her, but somehow she managed to come out with minimal damage. I’d hold to my one week taking it easy treatment plan.” 

They were serious? No pain for one week? 

Well… there were certainly other things I could be subjected to that hurt much, much worse. 

“And she is still a virgin, right?” Logan asked. 

He pulled out, and then placed his finger back inside another part of me that so far, only objects had gone into. 

“Stop!” I screamed. 

“He’s just checking.” Logan told me, his voice soothing again. 

The finger wasn’t big, but it was so uncomfortable, like it shouldn’t be there. I whimpered as it felt around and then popped back out. “It’s intact. She’s still a virgin.” 

They could've just asked me. I probably would’ve lied just for the heck of it, but still. 

“Okay. Anything on her front?” he asked. 

“No.” Logan answered. “Her breasts looked okay, and they seemed to take everything out on her backside.” 

“And nothing to the head, neck, shoulders or back?” the doctor moved towards my top half, and I felt hands brushing my hair this way and that, checking me for more injuries. 

“She looks fine.” He decided, and finally took his hands off. “Honestly, she just needs some rest. I’ll leave you the creams. Would you like a tranquilizer? She doesn’t seem like someone who’s going to sleep on her own tonight.” 

Logan chuckled. “That’s be great, Hous. Thanks.” 

“No!” I shook my head. “No drugs.” 

“Shh.” The man claiming to be my owner petted my hair again. “You’ll be thankful for these.” 

I doubted it. 

A sharp jab in my left arm, and then everything went dark. 

 

Beckett

 

My new room was nice, and the bathroom probably had more money put into it than my parents’ entire house. 

The tub was huge, big enough for three or four adults, with benches along the side, jets, and a long shower head for spraying. The shower was a single, but large enough to be a double, with the head that sprayed from the ceiling, two more jets on the sides, and… an enema nozzle. I wrinkled my nose, not pleased, but she had promised plugs and this was something that came with it. I shouldn’t have been surprised. 

The soaps and shampoos were expensive, name brand that you found in salons. Some of the drawers were locked, but others held toothbrushes, hair brushes, lotions, and… cages and plugs. Again… just as promised. 

I shed my tunic and decided that if I was going to be a slave, I might as well enjoy the amazing shower provided. It took a few minutes to figure out the handles, but I finally got the top head raining warm water over me, and began to scrub off the wine stains, sweat, dirt, semen, cum, humiliation, and horrors of the past month. There had been no bathroom door to close, and I knew that meant that Cara would afford me no more privacy than Lance had. I was right, because only a few moments later, I turned to find her watching me in the doorway, a small smile on her face, a man I didn’t recognize behind her. Startled, I took a step back and instinctively covered myself. Her smile diminished, but didn’t completely go away as she stepped forward, over to the side of the shower with no wall. “Beckett.” Her tone was firm. “Move your hand. You don’t get to hide from anyone, least of all me.” 

A furrow of my brow, but I didn’t want to start this off by disobeying her. We’d been getting on okay so far, and aside from the strange man behind her, she’d communicated everything to me before doing it. “Yes, Mistress.” I moved my hands, though I think it took me a bit longer than she approved of, her eyebrow high on her forehead and a nod of finality when my hands were at last by my sides, clenching. 

“Good boy. This is a doctor, he’s here to make sure those idiots didn’t leave any lasting damage on you. Hurry up and come out as soon as you’re done. Don’t bother with an enema.” 

The doctor had been kind enough, carefully looking me over while Cara stood watch. I had a cut on the back of my thigh that was infected, but I already knew that. Any time it touched water I had to hold back sobs. He injected an antibiotic, and left a few more for Cara to give me for the week. I also had a mild concussion, so he wanted me to stay awake for at least twelve more hours. That was easily the most disappointing thing, since that bed was calling to me on a spiritual level. After he released me from his table, Cara nodded to the floor. “Kneel here. I’ll be just a moment.” I obeyed, and the two of them stepped outside and shut the door behind them. 

I was completely exhausted and the thought of having to stay here for a long period of time like Lance used to make me had me panicky. I prayed that she really was just coming back in a moment, because already my knees were groaning, my ankles screaming, and my core trembling. But she kept her promise and returned very quickly. 

“Good job, Beckett. A little straighter, shoulders higher, chest out.” she told me, and I did as she asked. “Eyes down, Beckett. Never look anyone in the eye unless they are a fellow slave or have given you permission. But keep your head high. We don’t want to hide that beautiful face of yours.” 

In another lifetime, I might have blushed at that comment, but here, I was too tired to even acknowledge it. 

“Doc says you can’t sleep for twelve hours so I figured we’d go ahead and get you groomed.” 

“Groomed?” I asked, tentatively. 

Cara took a deep breath and shook her head. “Beckett. I do not permit my slaves to speak unless spoken to. Remember?” 

Swallowing, I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.” 

Her face twisted with a touch of sympathy and a tad of annoyance, she nodded to a small piece of laminated paper attached to the door. I’d noticed it earlier, but hadn’t had a chance to read it. “Go and see what the punishment for speaking out of turn is and read it aloud.” 

Oh no. this was going to be exactly like being with Lance, wasn’t it?

I pulled myself to my feet, and she caught my arm, gently. “We’ll work on that. When you rise you must do so with grace. Go on.” She nodded once more to the door. “And it’s locked, just so you don’t embarrass yourself trying to run.” 

The addition to her sentence stopped me in my tracks for only a second before I managed to resume my gait. Once I stood before the sign, I realized that it was a punishment chart. On the left was a column labeled “Offenses” and on the right, “Consequences”. Talking out of turn was second, below “Failing to address your owner by their proper title.” The consequence was… five strokes with a cane. Lance had certainly been liberal with the cane. I doubted Cara would be strong enough to inflict the same damage, but I knew that even a half-hearted stroke would be horrible. I wanted to stay and read the rest of the list, but she had given me a direct order, and failing to obey a direct order was… ten lashes with the strap. So, I read the offense and consequence out loud, and turned to see what she wanted from me next. To my surprise, she was standing just outside the closet, a key hanging from its’ lock, a cane already in hand. She nodded to the bed post. “Stand against the post and grasp it with both hands. Get comfortable.” She ordered.   
I obeyed, not wanting this but also not wanting more punishment. "I'm being lenient with you, but you've already been told this rule. I do not expect to get into the habit of repeating myself. Are you ready?" 

I swallowed and nodded. 

"Count for me. End with 'Mistress'." 

The lesson for that night? Canes are effective no matter how strong you are.


	10. Chapter 10

River

I woke up on something that felt like an actual cloud.  


The issue was that I was tied down to it.  


My eyes blinked open, groggily and feeling crusty on the edges, my mouth had a horrible taste in it, and every limb in my body felt heavy, stiff, and sore. There was a pounding in my head, and even my throat hurt.  


“Ah. Welcome back.”  


Frowning, I turned towards the source of the noise.  


Right. Logan. I rolled my eyes and laid my head back, angry.  


“I see you’re not much more pleased with me than you were yesterday.”  


“Yesterday?” I demanded, lifting my head. “How long was I asleep?”  


He smirked, but it was a friendly smirk. Like he was happy I’d slept so long, but happy for me, not at me. That probably doesn’t make sense. “Well, we gave you the drug at four yesterday afternoon and it is now one the next afternoon. So roughly twenty one hours.”  


I gaped, laying my head back.  


“It was a very mild sedative. Meant only to relax you, not even put you to sleep. I only restrained you in the last hour, when you finally began stirring. Your body needed the rest.” He smiled down at me, coming closer and seeming oddly benevolent. “Do you feel better?”  


I glared at him, then scoffed and turned my head away.  


“Okay. Silence. Works for me.” I could practically hear his shrug. “Well, I’m sure you’re hungry and want a shower and to brush your teeth so I’m going to bargain with you. You work with me… don’t fight me… let me get you up and bathed and fed… and I promise that this will be nice for you. Not just endurable, but enjoyable. What do you say?”  


Scoffing again, I continued to stare at the other wall. “I don’t think you know what a bargain is.”  


“Oh yeah?”  


“Yeah.” I snapped, turning on him. “I don’t get anything from that.”  


He smirked. “Sure you do. A clean body. A full stomach.”  


Shaking my head I swallowed. “I want to go home.”  


“Well your home isn’t there anymore, and even if it were there’s no one to take care of you.”  


“And you’re 'taking care' of me?”  


“You have a roof over your head. a bed under you… a comfy one at that.” I glanced around, realizing that he must have brought in a ridiculously comfortable cot after knocking me out. “I’m offering you a shower. Food.” He shrugged. “How’s that any different from a parent?”  


“A parent doesn’t rape you.”  


Logan furrowed his brown and swallowed, sitting on the edge of the bed but carefully, as to not touch me. Still, I scooted as far away as the cuffs on each limb would allow. “It’s not rape because I own you. And the faster you grasp that, the better things will be here for you.”  


I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “God. You people. You think just because you say slavery’s okay that everyone should just hop on board with your idea.”  


He made an amused face. “Okay. So you boycotted all things involving slaves? You owned none? Ate at no restaurants? Shopped at no businesses? Were homeschooled?”  


Still, I stayed quiet. He knew what I meant. The abuse of slaves.  


“Look, I know Isaac put you through an ordeal. But that’s not how this is going to go. You and me, we’re on the same team. We’re going to work together to get you to a good place where I can sell you to your new owner. Who, by the way, is fantastic. I’m the teacher, you’re the student. We both have a part to play. We both want the same thing. Which is for you to go to a good home. So how about this? Today, and only today, you get to relax. Digress. Shake off the disgusting government training facility vibe, ask me anything you want, get to know me, and tomorrow morning we’ll start fresh. How does that sound?”  


I frowned at him again.  


“No punishments for anything you do or say today. The only constraints are that you stay in the training room, and I have the final say on what you eat and when you go to sleep. I’m also okay with you trying to fight me, but you cannot use your nails or your teeth. I don’t approve of biting.”  


My jaw hung open. Was this guy for real?  


He smirked. “Seriously. Come on.” He gave me the ‘come at me’ gesture.  


I nodded, slowly. “Okay. One day. And then what?”  


With a shrug, he smiled. “We try things my way. You give me one day of doing everything I say. You obey every word. And if at the end of the day you think that it’s just unbearable, we’ll talk.”  


“Like, we’ll talk and then you’ll free me?”  


Logan smirked. “No. We’ll talk about your options.”  


“And what are my options?”  


He took a breath and made a face. “Well. You have a few. We can either change your training style because I might be doing something wrong. We can find you a new owner who likes how feisty you are. Or I can send you back to the government with the request that they change your slave path to something else, like a cook or a housekeeper.”  


“You can do that?”  


“It’s only a request. I have no control over the final outcome. And frankly, you’re safer with me.”  


“So there’s no real choice here?”  


“I think you’ll feel better once tomorrow is over. So come on. Let’s get you up. Want a shower?” 

Beckett

Cara and I spent the next twelve hours going over everything I’d already learned at the facility. She was gentle and kind about it, since we were both tired and my head was roaring by the end of it. It was enough to keep me awake.  


We went through posture positions and leash commands – both verbal and silent. She talked to me about kneeling when she enters a room, and other rules I was expected to follow while in her training room. She explained how meals would be handled, how I was to only eat or drink from her hand unless otherwise specifically given permission. She went through my file with me, asking me about my family and school, how I felt about certain subjects, what sports I enjoyed. And then she got to my training file.  


“See.” she sighed to herself, shaking her head. “This is why the government is inefficient. You were there for three weeks and all you learned were leash positions, sucking cock, and how to take plugs, dildos, cages, sounds, and bondage.”  


I swallowed. To me, that seemed like a lot.  


“It’s okay,” she smiled down to me, “not your fault.”  


Nodding, I bit the inside of my lip.  


“Stop that.” She told me, gently. “Don’t form habits like that. You’re going to have to stop biting your nails, too.”  


I gave another nod, careful not to speak since it wasn’t a question.  


“Good boy. You’re learning.” She smiled down at me, lifting my chin and gaze to her. “You’re going to be a very, very good boy, aren’t you Beckett?”  


Feeling a little bit like a dog, I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”  


“Alright. We still have a few hours before you can sleep, and you’re looking a bit pale. Let’s take it easy and talk about things Lance did that you liked.”  


“That I liked?” I repeated, swallowing.  


She nodded. “Was there anything? Did you enjoy using your mouth, or perhaps you enjoyed the toys in your bottom, or…” she shrugged. “Anything?”  


I made a face, then shook my head. “Not really, sorry, Mistress.”  


“Okay. Well, what about before? Did you have girlfriends or boyfriends?”  


With a nod, I gave her a soft smile. “I did have a girl I liked.”  


“Good.” She grinned. “And did you kiss her or... perhaps play around… even sleep together?”  


“No Mistress.” I shook my head. “Well, we kind of kissed once, but it was just a quick peck on the lips. But I really liked it.” Anything to assert how straight I was.  


“And when you think of women, what do you think of? Breasts? Butts? Their mouths, or…?” she grinned, and I knew I was blushing furiously.  


“I like their eyes. And hair. Running my fingers through it. And I guess their butts.” I nearly choked my answer out.  


“There’s no wrong answer, Beckett. Don't be shy.” She touched my chin. “I’m only trying to learn more about you. Of course, it’s not about what you want, but what your mistress wants, but I can help you turn your desires to make her happy.”  


I gave her a nod. “Thank you, Mistress.” I told her, sincerely.  


“You’re welcome, Beckett. Let’s talk anatomy.”


	11. Chapter 11

River 

 

That first day wasn’t horrible. Logan gave me a tunic and allowed me to wear it after leading me in to what he explained was his personal training room. It was a bedroom with two closets and a giant bathroom. 

“You’ll stay here until I see fit to allow you into the rest of the house. The door is locked with a code, so don’t try to get out. The bathroom has no door, as you will have no privacy. Both closets are locked at all times. All of the furniture is bolted to the floor. While here you will undergo training to become a pleasure slave specifically for men. If your new owner decides he’d like you to pleasure women, you’ll return to me and I will add on to your current training. The rules of my house are posted on the door, along with a punishment chart for your misdoings. As you are not going to receive punishments today, we will save those for later. However, you should know that I punish my slaves swiftly and immediately, but not without first allowing you to explain yourself. For today, you may wear a tunic. However for the remainder of your time here, this is a clothing free zone for you. Once you begin leaving this room, you will place your tunic on the hook as you enter and may put it back on if given permission when you leave. You will only be given shoes when we leave and when I deem it necessary. Any questions so far?” 

I crossed my arms. “So because some ugly rich guy is to ugly to get laid on his own, I have to become a human sex doll?” 

Logan smirked. “If that’s how you’d like to see it, sure. But that attitude isn’t helping anyone, and no one cares that you have it. So feel free to drop it anytime.” 

“Not today.” I shrugged. “Today I have a get out of jail free card, and I am going to take advantage of it. Every. Single. Second.” 

He nodded. “Sounds good to me. Makes my day interesting. Why don’t we start with a shower?” 

I narrowed my eyes. “If you mean you take a shower, then I take a shower with you on the other side of that door, then sure.” 

Shaking his head, he chuckled. “Nope. You will always shower with your owner, unless he doesn’t want you to. Go turn it on and wait for me.” 

“Or what?” I placed my hands on my hips. “You’re not punishing me. So why should I do anything you say?” 

“Don’t you want a shower?” 

“Yeah, but I also don’t want you ogling me or trying to feel me up.” 

“How in the world did you suffer the indignity of the facility?” he crossed his arms and shook his head, amused. 

I scoffed. “Don’t patronize me. I was kidnapped and forced into sexual slavery and you’re making a joke of it.” 

“And now I’m trying to make it all better. So let me.” 

“So you’re telling me that I’m going to leave this place without ever having to suck your dick, or you raping me?” I practically screamed. 

He raised his eyebrows. “No. What I’m telling you is that all of those things can be good. You’ve only experienced the bad.” 

“I don’t believe you.” I narrowed my eyes. 

“That’s why we’re doing this. You get your day, I get mine.” 

“Except you’re turning my day into your day.” 

He furrowed his brow. “Okay, River. I never said you could do whatever you wanted. I just said you wouldn’t be punished.” 

“Not letting me take a shower is a punishment.” 

“How about this? We take a shower, I don’t touch you.” 

Taking a deep breath, I eyed him, disbelieving. “Really? A whole shower, no touching?” 

“I swear.” He held up his hands. 

“Alright.” I nodded. “But I set the temperature.” 

 

Logan was right… things were way better here than they had been. Being able to move around and use my limbs and see and hear and talk… it was better. I knew the plugs were coming, and I knew the sucking would start soon, and his hands would be on my nipples and inside me and I just couldn’t stop thinking about how unfair all of this was. And then Ryan brought out meatloaf. 

“River?” he asked me at lunch. I was sitting at the table with him but not getting any food since he refused to feed me unless I knelt by him and ate by his hand. “Something wrong?” 

I shrugged and then shook my head. 

He raised his eyebrows. “So which is it? Maybe? Or no?” 

I looked up at him, annoyed. “What?” 

“You shrugged and shook your head. Which makes me think that something’s going on.” 

Scoffing, and I nodded. “Of course something’s going on. My parents and my little sister died. Okay? Do you understand that? Probably not. You probably had the perfect little life where slaves waited on you hand and foot and you never wanted for anything.” 

He nodded. “Yeah. No, you’re right. I never lost my brother in a car accident. My father never died of cancer when I was seven. And my mother didn’t end up in an elderly home for early onset dementia at the age of forty five. I never had to adopt my nephew when I was twenty five. A month after I got married. I had plenty of time for children on my own, and my wife and I were blessed with tons of little ones running around. Lucky there was nothing wrong with me to prevent her from having kids. I had a perfect life.” 

I narrowed my eyes. “You got a chance to deal with all of that. In a healthy, protected environment. I got a few stressful hours with my brother locked in a room before I was ripped away from him, branded, surgically fixed so I wouldn’t accidentally get pregnant, chained to a pole in an auction, and then taken off to be trained as a sex slave at the early age of fifteen. Do you even know what it was like in there? What he did to me?” I was standing now, panting. At some point I had slammed my hand on the table, spilling his glass of water. 

Logan swallowed. 

I shook my head again, feeling like an idiot. He didn’t care. He just wanted me trained so he could get his money’s worth and move on with his life. 

“Full bondage and sensory deprivation, all the time.” He spoke up, grabbing my attention. “Housed in a cage too small to move in. Fed through a funnel, then through dildos. By the time you even knew what was happening, it was too late. One small mistake and the consequences were drastic. For a girl who spent three weeks in those conditions, you’re doing surprisingly well. You don’t seem to have lost many of your social skills, you’re not sickly… you’re walking well on your leg. You’re strong, River.” 

“That’s right, I am. Stronger than you.” 

He smiled at me. “That may be. You see, Isaac saw that as a bad thing. Because he wants a broken and defeated slave. Not me.” He raised his eyebrows. “I have no use in a mindless sack of meat. I want intelligent human beings that I can mold and teach to be willing and excited about serving their masters.” 

“I’ll never be willing.” 

“Because you don’t know how good it can be.” 

Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head. “It’s only good when it’s consensual.” 

“Who says it’s not consensual? When you meet your new owner you may just very much want to sleep with him.” 

“I highly doubt that. Besides, I’m a slave. My consent is nonexistent.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But I know your master, and he would never force you to sleep with someone you didn’t want to sleep with.” 

“Including himself?” 

Logan smirked. “Have some faith in my training, River.” 

“Okay, fine. Let’s say this mystery master shows up and he’s just stunning and I am begging to sleep with him.” I sat back down, my leg beginning to pulse with pain. “Then what? He never forces me to anything I don’t want to do ever again? And then I turn twenty five and he frees me?” 

“I’m not saying you won’t be forced to participate in activities you dislike, River. You’re a slave and I have no disillusions about what that means for you. what I’m saying is that your strength will help you. You can keep your personality and be a very obedient and willing pleasure slave.” 

“You’re wrong.” I made a face. “I can’t be me and be a good slave.” 

“That’s where I come in.”


	12. Chapter 12

Beckett

 

Sleeping was magical. Even if I was cuffed to the bed, it still was better than anything I’d felt in weeks. Cara even gave me a massage, but I fell asleep only minutes after she started. 

When I woke up, she was speaking with Logan quietly at the door. 

“She’s still asleep?” 

“Yeah, I’m about to wake her up.” 

“You’ll start off easy?” 

“Of course, Car. She talked a lot yesterday, and I know what’s she most nervous about. We’ll slide in gently and go from there. She wouldn’t take her clothes off at all for me yesterday, not even to shower, so I think we’ll work on that today.” 

“Yeah, you said…” she whispered. “It was nice having dinner with you last night. After these two, we should take a break. Give ourselves a few months of respite.” 

I could hear them kissing, and stayed motionless. 

“I’ve missed you too. But you’d better get started. Otherwise he’s going to continue faking sleep and we’ll waste half the day away.” 

Ah well. It was worth a try. 

Cara was smiling at me when she walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do you feel better?” 

“Yes Mistress.” I nodded. 

“Good.” She reached over and stroked my bangs from my face. “Well, let’s hop in the shower, eat some breakfast, and get started.” 

I nodded as she reached up and uncuffed my hands from the headboard. Not wanting to get into any trouble, I left them there until she said, “Up you get. Go on and turn on the shower and then wait outside for me.” 

Obeying quickly, I did as she asked and stood outside the glass, shivering a bit from the mixture of cold air and warm steam. It was only a moment or two before she followed me in, pulling her hair from it’s bun. “Brush your teeth.” She nodded to the counter. “The blue toothbrush is for you to use.” 

For me to “use”. It wasn’t “mine”. As obedient as I pretended to be, I wasn’t missing anything. Cara and Logan might seem nice enough, but ultimately they were the one thing keep me from breaking down that door, rescuing my sister, and making for the hills. There was a small country just over the mountain range that had abolished slavery twenty years ago. Rumor was that if you could get there, they’d free you. Even give you a place to sleep and a job. 

Most never made it there. Even my parents had considered taking Vanessa there after she’d failed to receive her freedom, but my father had been too concerned about the journey. Since the airlines and trains prohibited passage for slaves to that country, you had to drive to the mountains, then hike over, and hope you weren’t caught. He wasn’t willing to risk her life. 

I finished brushing my teeth and then turned, my gaze appropriately lowered. “In.” she nodded to the shower, so I went. She came in behind me, now naked like I was, and grabbed a bottle of shampoo. “Stand under the water. Soak your hair.” So I did, running my fingers through it, trying to get it all wet. 

“You need a trim.” She tutted, lathering her hands with the shampoo before running it through my locks. “Here on your neck… it’s just growing out too much.” She shook her head, massaging my scalp. It felt so good, but she was too short to get it all so I wasn’t surprised when she ordered me to kneel after a moment so she could finish. Once it was all rinsed out, she told me to stand again. “Hold your arms out, spread your legs.” She told me. I did, and she began washing me with a soft cloth and something that smelled like citrus. Her gentle fingers cleaned my penis and balls as well, but it wasn’t like when Lance had touched me. She was gentle and kind, and he had been careless. Finally, she pulled a nozzle and tube from where it sat on the wall and showed it to me. “Do you know what this is?” 

I shook my head. “Is it for enemas, Mistress?” 

She nodded. “Very good. It’s a shower shot. It works just like an enema bag, but it’s easier for you to use on your own. Your mistress may not always care if you’re cleaned out, but if she wants you cleaned out, I promise she won’t want to do it herself. As a trainer, I prepare you for everything, so you will be cleaned out every day. Just work this into your hole,” she tapped the nozzle, “and then push the little lever. It only has one speed, and you should leave it in as long as you can. Then you turn it off, pull it out, hold it to the count of three hundred, and then use the toilet. Before you flush, check the water. Continue until it is clear. After your shower, I expect you to wipe up the water from the floor. Am I clear?” 

“Yes Mistress.” I answered a bit miserably. Enemas? Every day? And I wasn’t even being used in that hole? How stupid was that?

“Hey. None of that.” She swatted my butt and it stung. “You’ll do it and you’ll not complain.” 

“Yes Mistress.” I nodded, taking the shot as it offered it to me. 

“Soap up the tip.” She poured a bit of body wash into my palm and I obeyed. “Good. Now slowly insert it…” 

I took a deep breath and then tried to let it out slowly as I found my hole and began to push. It burned, but it wasn’t any worse than what Lance had done. Once it was securely in, I pushed the lever. The water came flooding in and began filling me up quickly. I gasped, but she gave me a calm look. “You’re doing well. Deep breaths.” 

Keeping my expression neutral, I wondered if she’d ever had an enema. 

She continued washing her body as my brows furrowed deeper and deeper. Finally, when it felt full enough, I reached down to turn it off. 

“Beckett.” Her tone was warning. “You can wait longer than that.” 

I bit my lip and nodded, my hands hovering over my butt. It was too much… too much. Finally, I looked back up at her. “Please, Mistress.” 

She sighed. “Fine. But the less water you take, the more times you have to do it.” 

I didn’t care. I’d pulled the shot out the second she’d said “fine” and immediately began counting. Holding the water in was hard, but not as bad as usual. Normally Lance would push on my stomach and dare me to let a single drop drip. 

At two hundred fifty, I ran. And the second I reached three hundred, I released over the bowl, glancing down in disgust to see how brown it was before I flushed. 

Back in the shower, Cara was conditioning the tips of her hair. “What color was it?” 

“Brown, Mistress.” 

She nodded. “That’s good. If it’s ever yellow, green, red, or black, you let me know. Understand?” 

“Yes Mistress.” 

“Good boy. Again.”


	13. Chapter 13

River

I woke up feeling exhausted, but I wasn’t surprised. Hardly sleeping does that to you, and how on earth was I expected to fall asleep when Logan’s last words before tucking me in were, “Remember, River. We do everything my way tomorrow. You disobey even once and you get double the punishment.”  
What would I do? Would I obey? Would I fight?  
Really what it boiled down to was “do I trust him?”  
That was what was running through my head all night long. Sure, he’d come in like a knight in shining armor, taking me away from that hellhole, but was this much better? Out of the frying pan, into the fire?  
I still hadn’t made up my mind when I felt warm lips kissing me awake. My first instinct was to push him away, but I realized my hands had been bound to the headboard while I was asleep. My ankles were tied down as well. I couldn’t fight, so…  
I froze.  
For the first time in my entire life, I froze.  
“Good girl.” He whispered. “It would have been better if you’d kissed me back, but not fighting is a good start. Keep this up and we may just have a punishment free day. Wouldn’t you like that?”  
I swallowed, still not sure.  
“That’s okay.” He kissed the sides of my mouth again, apparently uncaring of my morning breath. “You’re nervous. That’s fine. But trust me, River. Trust me today and things will be so good.”  
So that’s when I decided. I didn’t want things to be good. I wanted things to be right. I didn’t care if he killed me, I wasn’t going to just play along.  
“Get off me.” I ordered, my voice a low growl.  
Logan’s expression remained. “River.” His tone was careful. “If you break our deal, I won’t be able to trust you. You’ll spend the rest of your time here with no rewards or anything extra I could give you. So I’m going to let you try that again because I know this is all very scary. The correct response would be, ‘Good morning, Master’.”  
I considered for almost a full second before I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t care if you trust me. Because I sure as hell don’t trust you.”  
He nodded. “Okay. So that’s how today is going to go. That’s fine.” He shook his head this time. “Not what I was hoping for, but fine. Not surprising.” It was like he was rambling to himself as he climbed over me, his knees on either side of my chest.  
“Get off of me!” I shouted, trying to squirm away. He reached up with keys and uncuffed my left wrist. Hard as I fought him, I couldn’t pull it away when he moved it over and cuffed it to my left wrist before uncuffing that wrist from the bed. Then, he pulled them both forward and cuffed them to my collar. He pulled the sheets down to expose me, not that I’d slept naked like an idiot, and freed my feet. I kicked out, but he moved out of my way and grabbed me around the waist, dragging me over to the bathroom and grabbing a leash off the wall as we went. “Leave me alone!” I was screaming. “Untie my hands!”  
He just ignored my screaming and shoved me against the counter. He used his hips to keep me trapped against the sinks, unwrapping a new toothbrush and pulling out toothpaste. Setting them both on the counter, he turned me to face the mirror. Logan spread the paste on the toothbrush and picked it up with one hand while forcing my mouth open with his other. He brushed my teeth for me.  
It made me gag. I fought a little, but I did want my mouth clean and I didn’t want foam all over my face. My dignity, I guess, spared me.  
“Spit.” He ordered, holding my hair back with the hand that had been holding my chin. I leaned forward, spitting. He gripped my mouth again, continuing to brush before repeating the order, washing off the brush, filling up a tiny cup of water and commanding me to rinse. When we were done, he dragged me into the shower, shortening the leash to less than a foot long and clipping me so I could hardly move from under the shower head. Then, he maneuvered my arms so they were spread out and cuffed to handicapped bars on either side of the shower. Since Logan wasn’t handicap, I assumed they were intended for this purpose. No matter how much I struggled or screamed or cursed, he just kept working, spreading my legs wide and cuffing my ankles. Now I was caddy-cornered in the shower, directly under the shower head. He stepped back, raising his eyebrows, and waited for me to finish hurling insults.  
“You bastard.” I shook my head, wondering where I’d even picked up some of this language.  
Probably from Isaac.  
“You done?” he asked.  
I just glared.  
“I’m going to take your tunic off of you.” He told me, swallowing. “You probably noticed the small zippers under your arms. It’s for this exact situation.”  
I hadn’t but now that he mentioned it there were two zippers. They ran from the bottom of the tunic, up under my armpits, and down to the edge of my sleeves. Unzipping them would make it possible to take it off without untying my arms.  
“No.” I could practically feel my face go pale. “No! Don’t!”  
“River. I’ve seen you naked before. And I will again. Please remember that this is not a big deal. You’re going to have to get over it.”  
“I don’t want to! It’s not fair!”  
“I know you feel that way. And I’m sorry. But you’ll be okay. Here I go…” his words were gentle, but unyielding. I felt tears running down my face as he began unzipping my tunic, and then as he pulled it over my head. My cheeks burned, and I kept my gaze low, not wanting to look him in the eye. “Hey. Don’t be ashamed, love.” He pet my cheek. “You have a beautiful body. You’re gorgeous. You should be proud.”  
I looked up at him, furious. “I am proud! I just don’t want you or anyone else looking at it!”  
Logan sighed. “Okay, sweetie. I’m going to take my clothes off too and then we’re going to take a shower.” He started with his pants, thin, linen, and grey. Then his shirt, a typical long-sleeved tunic my dad probably had. I kept my eyes low as he continued, not wanting to see under his underwear. I heard the elastic snap as he pulled them off, and then felt his breath in my hair as he stepped closer. “I’m turning the water on.” He warned, turning the handle. It was freezing cold for a split second, making me gasp, but he shared in the shock with me and stayed close as it quickly warmed up. I swallowed thickly as I heard him open up a bottle and then breathed in deeply when the scent of lemon and hibiscus filled the area and I felt his gentle fingers running through my now-wet strands. He pulled my head from the flow of water long enough to soap up my locks before warning me to close my eyes and then rinsing it all out. Then, he conditioned my tips like a pro before grabbing a soft loofah and sudsing it up, running it first over my shoulders. As he made his way down, I whimpered, trying to pull away. It was fine for a moment, him running his hands down my arms and back, but as soon as he got to my chest I shook my head. “Please don’t. Don’t touch me there.”  
He placed two fingers beneath my chin and lifted my gaze. “Hey. Don’t look down. Look at me.” He told me. I felt his hands scrubbing off the sweat and grim that yesterday’s shower had failed to remove, but his eyes gave me strength. They were bold but kind, keeping me focused on him and not the fact that he was…  
“Mmmmm.” I screwed up my face and felt tears pricking at my eyes.  
“Shh, shh, shh.” He whispered, finding my eyeline again. “Up here. At me.”  
But he was down there and it was so hard not to think about. I shook my head, trying to step back, to pull away, to close my legs but he just wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close, and then reaching back down. I slammed my foot down on his, but that just made my foot hurt and he didn’t flinch. My knee came up to attack his crotch, but he just easily turned sideways and all I hit was his hip and upper thigh.  
The worst part was that he wasn’t fighting back. Not really. I expected him to get angry, to hit me or threaten me. But all he was doing was silently maneuvering me, and I hated being maneuvered. 

Actually, the worst part was the enema. Not that I hadn’t had one only two days ago courtesy of Isaac, but it was still horrible to know that wasn’t changing.  
Logan turned off the shower and patted me dry with a towel before uncuffing my hands from the poles, cuffing them back together behind me, and then guiding me over to a soft bench by the sink. The bench had a place to clip my cuffed hands to, and carabiners to clip both ankles to, keeping me seated. He reached into a drawer, and I breathed in sharply, not ready for a butt plug or nipple clamps, or, or, or…  
A hairbrush.  
I breathed out. I could handle this. My dad had brushed my hair a few times when I was a kid and I’d survived.  
He started carefully, at the bottoms, combing out the tangles that had accumulated over the weeks. Whatever conditioner he’d used had done wonders, because it only took him about fifteen minutes of horrid silence to pull out each and every knot like he was a professional hair dresser.  
Then, he pulled out a lotion and slathered some onto his hands. “River. This is the hair removal cream they began on you at the facility. You probably don’t remember it because they usually start it during your intake and there’s so much going on that most kids don’t remember much of anything. I’m going to rub it everywhere below your neck. I need you to sit still so you don’t earn any more punishments, okay?”  
I swallowed. It had already been proven that I wasn’t going to have many wins today, and there was no way I was getting out of this. Still, why make it easy?  
“You’re not putting that on me.” I told him, in the same voice I used to order steak at a restaurant.  
“I am.” He nodded, “And the more you fight, the more trouble you get into. Do you really want that?”  
No. But not as much as I didn’t want the hair removal cream. So I squirmed and tried to pull away as he reached for me. I don’t know why I was wasting so much energy when I could hardly move an inch in any direction, but I just couldn’t let him do this to me so easily. I hated him. I hated all of this. I hated everything. Even Beckett, for lying to me. My parents, for not leaving us a guardian. My grandparents, for dying so early in my life.  
But the cream was slathered all over me, and my grandparents were still gone, so the lesson here is that there’s only so many battles you can fight.  
I hadn’t really learned that lesson yet. 

Beckett

The not knowing what was going on with River was the worst part.  
I didn’t care that Cara had some ridiculous idea that male slaves should always be hard and ready for their mistresses, or that she had me eating out her crotch and butt, or that she seemed obsessed with pushing my face into her breasts. All I cared about was my sister. What was happening to her? Was Logan being horrible? Was she being horrible back?   
So far, nothing here had been that bad. Cara was kind, Logan seemed nice enough, even Ryan smiled every time he dropped off a meal. The house told me that they were well off, the bed was amazing, and every morsel that touched my lips tasted like Vanessa had made it herself.  
But it was only so far. I wouldn’t be able to be perfect forever. Eventually I’d mess up and Cara would punish me and maybe even change how she looked at me. And one day… one day River and I would be sold to separate owners.  
“Beckett.” I heard Cara’s voice above me, so I glanced up, startled. “You seem distracted.”  
“Sorry, Mistress.” I went back to giving her a foot massage and staring at the ground, working harder.  
“You’re wondering about your sister.”  
I swallowed, not sure what the right thing to do was. I didn’t want to get in trouble for lying, but I also didn’t want her to think I couldn’t be in the house without worrying about River all the time. Luckily, it hadn’t been a question, so no response was an acceptable solution.  
“Beckett, you have to stop.” She told me, gently. “She’s under Logan’s care. Nothing you say or do is going to change anything that happens to her from here on out. You can be the best little slave boy in the world or the worst, but nothing will affect her.”  
I swallowed, nodding.  
She sighed. “What are you going to do when you’re finally split up?” she asked me, furrowing her brow. I could tell because she used a finger to tilt my chin up.  
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Mistress. Try really, really hard to hope for the best for you.”  
She smiled at me. “Her new owner is a wonderful man, Beckett. He won’t abuse her. But he is strict and firm and he will expect her obedience. But that’s why she has Logan training her. He’s wonderful with slaves. You’ll see.”  
I nodded, focusing once again on her foot.  
“I think that’s enough.” She pulled it away from me, gently, leaning down. She kissed me once, then gripped my chin and pulled me up on my knees, kissing me harder and harder. “Good boy.” She whispered. “Don’t just act like you like, really like it.” She went in again for another minute before allowing us both a breath. “Teach yourself to love it. It’ll make it easier.” She bit my lip gently with her teeth and I kissed her. She pulled back, frowning. “No, Beckett. You must not initiate anything.”  
I was so confused, and my expression must have shown it. She nodded. “Speak.”  
Swallowing, I shook my head. “I don’t understand, Mistress. You told me to kiss back.”  
She nodded. “When I kiss you, yes. When your owner wants to use you in anyway, you just stay there. Open and willing. Open your mouth, stay close, but don’t do anything unless they start it. If I kiss you, continue the kiss. But if I’m just near your mouth, don’t move. I may just want to lick you or bite you or something. Is that more clear?”  
“Yes, Mistress.” I nodded, truthfully. So basically a slave can’t do anything right. That’s what I was getting from this.  
Cool.  
“Good boy. Now open your mouth.” 


	14. Chapter 14

River 

After we walked out of the bathroom, Logan led me over to the punishment chart. 

“So River, what exactly did you do wrong this morning?” 

I narrowed my eyes. “Nothing.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “I see. Well. Then I suppose you weren’t unresponsive when I woke you up, disrespectful in addressing me, violent and aggressive in the bathroom, and blatantly disobedient throughout the entire process?” 

“When was the last time someone stripped you naked and told you they were going to sell you for sex?” 

Logan didn’t even blink. “River, where were you born?” 

I scoffed, but he squeezed my upper arm when I turned away. “Where. Were. You. Born?” he demanded. 

“At Carthony Memorial Hospital.” 

“What year?” 

He had all this in a file. 

“67,459.” 

“And where have you lived all of your life?” 

“In West Carthony.” 

“And in that time, how many slaves have you been exposed to?” 

I rolled my eyes, but he just forced me to continue facing him. 

“How many?” he repeated. 

“Hundreds.” I shrugged. “Thousands. I don’t know.” 

“And in your lifetime, how many slaves have you seen being blatantly disobedient to their owners and getting away with it? How many have you seen set free for being bad or unruly? How many have you seen or heard make it out of the country?” 

I swallowed and glared. 

“River, you’re not just fighting me. You’re fighting an entire system. You break out of here, great. Now you’ve got to get that collar and those cuffs off. Maybe you do, by some stroke of luck. But then you need a way to hide your brand, but you don’t have any money. And you look nothing like an adult so people will wonder where your parents are, but you don’t have any, so they’ll know you’re a slave, and you’ll be returned to the police.” 

“My parents have friends. They’ll help me.” 

“They can buy you, maybe. But you’ll still be a sex slave and even if they don’t use you like one, you’ll still have to go through formal sex slave training because the government doesn’t change it’s mind. River, you’re fighting a battle you cannot win. Your parents’ friends aren’t going to break the law for you.”

“You don’t know them.” 

“I know that you spent three weeks in government training and not a one of them inquired about you.” 

“You’re lying!” 

“Why would I lie?” 

“To make me obey you.”

“If I want to make you obey me, I’ll do it. What I want is for you to realize that you’re only making things harder for yourself. I want this to be easy for you.” He swallowed and let go of me, opening up the top drawer of the desk with a key and pulling out a file, slamming it on the table. “Go ahead. Look.” 

Scoffing, I crossed my arms over my bare chest and walked over, turning the file to face me. My name was on the tab, last name then first. I opened it up, seeing a photo of myself they must have taken when I was too drowsy to know what was happening. My birthdate, age, height, weight, medical history… my parents information and my relationship to Beckett and Lilia. Vanessa was even mentioned… the day of the fire. My parents’ and sister’s unsolved murders. A statement from each of us describing the day’s events. “Taken into custody” it said. “Delivered to the Minor’s House, put up for auction, not purchased, sent to The Slave Center.” I swallowed. There was no emotion to the words. No one cared that my world had crumpled. No one cared that my family was gone. In fact, in the time this happened, no one had said anything more than “I’m sorry” except for… 

Except for Logan. 

Sniffling and wiping away tears quickly I turned the page. 

List of relatives or friends seeking child out: __________

It was blank. Logan had been telling the truth. No one had looked for us. 

I took another deep breath and turned the page again. And gasped. 

There was a photo, maybe five or six years old. Lilia was still in diapers, Beckett and I were just kids. My parents stood on either side, Van in the middle. Dad held Lilia on his hip, Van had her hands on Beck’s shoulders and Mom had hers on mine. I picked up the photo looking it over. Who did this to us? Who killed them? 

Would I ever get the chance to find out?

“River,” Logan’s voice was soft, his hands gentle on my shoulders, his body comforting behind me “I gave you your day. Now give me mine.” 

 

Only through sobs did I agree. He pulled me into a hug and even though I fought it, it did feel nice. He took the photo, promising to keep it safe and let me look at it when he could trust me more. 

And then I had to be punished, apparently, for my earlier behavior. So fifteen strokes with the whip, ten with the cane, and sleeping in the cage that night were what I got. I didn't take them easily. I cried and screamed and he dragged me over to the wall and cuffed my hands and managed to maintain his cool throughout the entire thing. Which was more frustrating than anything else. I just wanted him to yell and scream and act completely like an animal so I could hate him, but he hardly even raised his voice. The lashes hurt like hell, and the cane made me want to claw the walls apart, but I survived. But the rest of the day, we’d do things his way. If only because I was too tired.

Plus, the horrifying thought of “what if he’s right” kept creeping up. I didn’t have a plan. I’d never seen any slaves find freedom. People would ask me where my parents or masters were. I wouldn’t make it a whole day without being caught. Not in the city, anyway. 

So maybe, just maybe, playing nice could work. 

 

Beckett

 

Cara wasn’t half bad. I mean, sure, she still woke me up with a kiss I didn’t want, and she herded me into a shower where I was forced to wash her and she washed me. We touched each other and I was the only shy one there. She shoved the shower shot into my anus and made me hold it in for five minutes three times. We got out and I brushed my teeth while she got dressed, and then she combed my hair and shoved a plug into my anus, a cage over my penis and inserted a sound, which always nearly made me cry, but none of them were worse than the Center’s tools. In fact, they were smaller and gentler. She forced me to kneel as she ate breakfast leisurely, reading the paper and sipping her coffee. Every few bites she would hand me a piece of food and offer me her fork piled with eggs. She didn’t finish until I was full and I turned away. 

Her eyes narrowed down at me. “You’re not hungry any more?” 

“No Mistress.” I answered, my eyes on the ground. 

She huffed. “Well. We’re going to need to work your appetite back up. You’re probably just not used to being fed so much, which is a shame since those lips are so divine.” She traced them with her finger before leaning down to give me a kiss and then popping quickly to her feet. “Alright, darling, I need to get to work.” She smiled down at me, and just like magic, Ryan appeared. He placed her laptop and folder on the table, and took the tray with our dishes off, shutting the door behind himself. 

I stayed on my knees, though they burned, and remained quiet as the noise above my head sounded of a laptop opening, papers being shuffled around, pens clicking… and the warm fingers in my hair. 

It was different from Lance’s fingers. They were soft, loving fingers that enjoyed the softness of my locks. I closed my eyes, enjoying for the first time the touch of another outside of my family. Sure, Van used to do this to get me to sleep, but this wasn’t Van. It was different. 

So I sat there. For what seemed like forever, as her fingers rubbed my head and then left. And then returned. And then left again. Never in my entire life had I been so bored. My mind was relaxed. I wasn’t terrifying myself with thoughts of punishment, or where River was. I was just… bored. And also… 

“Beck, love?” 

“Mistress?” I looked up. 

“Do you need to ask me something?” she tutted, her eyebrows raised knowingly. 

My cheeks burned, but I nodded. “May I go to the restroom, Mistress?” 

She smiled down at me. “You may. Be fast.” 

“Yes Mistress.” I promised, standing slowly and carefully, feeling the pins and needles return to my legs, my knees aching from holding position for so long. I shuffled over to the toilet, did my thing, cleaned the front of the sound and cage with a wet washcloth, washed my hands, and returned.


	15. Chapter 15

Beckett

She smiled down at me. “Good boy. I’m sure you’re stiff from kneeling all day?” 

Was this a trick question? Obviously I was, but would that be complaining? 

Her voice was soft. “Beckett, I didn’t mean to scare you. I know you’re stiff and I know kneeling all day sucks. So we’re going to do some yoga.” 

Yoga? Seriously?

“Any free time your owner gives you should be used to improve yourself. If that means working out, doing yoga, reading self-help books, whatever they allow you. Your time belongs to them, and if you’ve been given time without duties, you should give it back to them by making yourself better. Yoga is perfect for sex slaves for many reasons. It’s a work out to tone your body. A way to make yourself more flexible, and to stretch out your tight and sore muscles. And a way to relieve yourself of stress, pent up energy, and center your focus. So reach into the box over there and pull out two yoga mats.” She nodded over to the crate. I stood and walked over to it, pulling out the only two mats inside and returning with them. She nodded to the open space between the bed and her desk. “Set them side-by-side but give us both some room.” 

I obeyed, unrolling them. 

She stood and came over, taking the mat I was furthest from and standing on it. “Go ahead. Join me.” She smiled over at me. 

Nervously, I obeyed. First of all, I’d never done yoga before. So I knew this was going to be a huge failure and I was going to look like an idiot. 

Second of all, I didn’t want to spend my free time making myself better for my owners. I wanted to spend it trying to forget that I had owners in the first place. 

Maybe I did need yoga. 

“Great. First you need to center yourself. Stand in mountain pose.” She showed me. It was just standing there with your legs spread and arms down and fingers out, eyes closed. If this was how it was going to be, I could excel. “Now breathe in…. and out. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Good. Let everything wash away, clear your mind of all anxieties and worries, and think on one thing. Your mistress.” 

Well then how was I supposed to clear my mind of my anxieties?

“Focus on me. Picture my face, me smiling at you. Listen to my voice.” 

Or. I could open my eyes and see her face smiling at me. What was the purpose of this?

“Keep breathing slowly. Set your goal for this practice. Maybe you’d like a work out. Maybe you’d like to stretch and relax your muscles. Maybe you need to relieve stress. Whatever it is, choose your goal and dedicate it to your mistress.” 

Right. Well, since stress relief and dedicating this “practice” to Cara wasn’t going to happen, I decided that I’d dedicate the relaxing of my muscles to her. That seemed fair, since she owned the muscles. 

God I was going to drive myself crazy if I kept this up. 

“Good. And on your last breath out we’re going to bring our hands to our hearts and take a few more breaths…” I followed her lead, taking the traditional yoga pose I’d seen on posters and commercials. “And then stretch your hands all the way to the sky…” 

 

We did yoga. For like, an hour. And I have to say, I really underestimated yoga as a work out. So kudos to my mom and Van for doing hours of yoga every week and then acting like they didn’t think their arms were going to fall off. 

I was exhausted, but she was right. I felt much better mentally, physically… maybe even spiritually. 

Apparently falling asleep during Shavasana was totally allowed. I had a minor panic attack when she woke me up thinking I was going to be in some serious crap, but she just told me to settle down on my bum, close my eyes, and then we both said namaste and life was Gucci. 

For the rest of the night we walked through positions and commands and walking on a leash… all things I hated. It was just horrifying to me that with a snap of her fingers and the direction they were pointed, I was supposed to be trained enough to immediately assume the correct position no matter what I was doing. For the millionth time, I wondered how River hadn’t murdered Logan yet. 

Dinner went fine, I was getting used to it and honestly, Cara was so kind, and hot, that I didn’t really mind that much. 

It was just… bedtime. 

The night before I’d been left to sleep on my own. Logan had come in and said it was the last night they’d be able to spend together, which probably meant he’d be raping my sister soon. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

I helped Cara get ready for bed. Undressed her. Dressed her in a nightgown. We brushed our own teeth. My nerves were going crazy. Was she going to… make me…ugh. I didn’t even want to think about it. I’d never had sex with anything before, and now my first time was going to with a slave trainer. 

Sorry, Rachel Daniels-who-I’ve-had-a-crush-on-since-first-grade. It always worked out in my fantasies, but never real life. 

Cara led me over to the bed, and I waited, uncertain. Was I supposed to do something? Was I even allowed back on the bed now that she was sleeping in it? Or was the cage…? 

This was so stressful. 

She turned and smiled at me. “Don’t worry, Beckett. We’re not going to do anything tonight. Most owners will want you to sleep with them in their bed even when they’re not using you, but some husbands aren’t okay with it, so if you end up with a married couple or someone with multiple slaves you may end up in a crate or a separate room all together. Here, you’ll sleep in the crate often. But tonight, let’s just relax and go to sleep.” 

I swallowed, nodding. 

“Good boy. You always let your owner get in first. Then, ask if they need anything before going around to the other side of the bed, climbing in, and scooting all the way over to them. Don’t make me reach out for you.” 

“Yes Mistress.” I watched her climb in bed and waited until she looked at me to ask, “Can I get you anything?” 

She smiled at me. “Turn the light off, love.” 

I nodded, obeyed, and then walked over to the other side, and got in. I scooted all the way over to her, not too close but close enough for her to reach me. Then I laid down, flat on my back. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to face her or turn away, so I went with my gut. 

“You’re okay, love. Every owner has their preferences. Turn and face me.” She told me softly. 

I obeyed. 

She smiled, taking her pointer finger and running it down my face to the tip of my nose. “You’re so sweet, Beckett. Such a beautiful boy. Someone is going to be very happy with you.” 

Not exactly great bed talk. 

“Okay. I’m tired. Give me a kiss and then turn over.” 

I obeyed, hoping it was good, and then rolled over. She wrapped her arms around my waist and snuggled up against me, her fingers tracing my abs and reaching down to fondle my balls. i kept very, very still, trying not to flinch. "Relax." she whispered, soothingly. Eventually, her soft breathing and still hands signaled to me she was out. I guess for all her traits as a slave trainer, she hadn’t noticed her trainee crying himself to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for all the feedback : ) I've pretty much got this entire story mapped out already, but I am taking prompts, especially for training. Please don't be upset if I don't respond to yours because it doesn't fit in with where I'm already going. Anyways, I know you're probably missing River, so here she is!

River 

After my punishment, Logan told me to kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed. He then opened up the closet and pulled one of practically everything out and set in on the floor, seating himself on the other side with the objects in between us. 

He nodded down to the area I was glaring at. “What are these?” 

I shrugged. “Torture tools.” 

He smiled. “They can be, yes. But what are they to you?” 

Shaking my head, I looked up at him. “Things you’re going to use to hurt me.” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Am I?” 

I just scoffed. “You just used one of them like two minutes ago.” 

“But did I hurt you?” 

Rubbing my sore bottom unconsciously I nodded. “Yes.” 

“What was my intention?” 

“To hurt me.” I practically screamed, so frustrated. 

“Was it?” He was so calm. I wanted to punch him. 

“Oh. My. God.” I sighed. “Yes. You wanted to hurt me so I wouldn’t disobey you again.” 

“Clearly the lesson didn’t rub off.” He smirked, talking to himself. “When your parents spanked you, or took away a privilege, did that hurt you?” 

I shrugged. “They weren’t trying to hurt me. They were trying to-“ I stopped, seeing where this was going. “Okay that’s different.” 

“I based my actions off your actions. Just like they did. My goal wasn’t to hurt, but to discipline. These tools can be torture tools, yes. Or even pleasure tools.” He smiled. “But here, in this room, they are discipline tools. And who in this room decides whether they serve their purpose or whether they are merely decorations?” 

Scoffing, I rolled my eyes. This one was easy. “You. Because you’re in charge.” I sighed. 

He bit his lip and eyed me. “Actually, River, the one thing in this household, and in the household of your new owner, that you are in charge of is this. You behave, you aren’t punished. You disobey, out comes the crop.” 

Crossing my arms, I shook my head. “Fine. I’ll be good.” 

“I hope so. But learning a new lifestyle, new habits… it’s hard. The important thing is to not be scared of these tools, but know that they can’t hurt you on their own. Only I have the ability to hurt you, and that’s not my goal. I will never give you a punishment that is abusive or extreme. Each punishment puts you one step closer to being a better slave. And that’s our end goal. Okay?” 

Taking a deep breath, I nodded. That wasn’t necessarily our end goal, but I didn’t really feel like starting something just then. Not when there were nipple clamps sitting in front of me. 

Logan spent another twenty minutes or so going over each item, it’s name, what it was used for, and the punishment associated with it. After each explanation, he put the item away until there was only one left. 

“Do you know what this is, River?” 

I swallowed, nodding. “Yes, Master.” 

He gave me a look that prompted me to go on. 

“It’s a butt plug. It’s used to keep my anus open and stretched so I don’t tear. But my last trainer liked to use it to remind me of him.” 

“Very good. I’m sure you’ve had one in your vagina as well?” 

I swallowed and nodded. 

“Right. You’ll get used to these. They’re for your own good, at least the way your new master and I use them. You might even come to like some of them.” He smirked. “But for now, you’re torn and we don’t want to make anything worse.” He put it away as well, and just then there was a knock on he door and it opened. 

“Master?” Ryan poked his head in and smiled, tray in hand. “I have breakfast.” 

“Thank you.” Logan smiled back, nodding to the table where Ryan set it. The slave gave me a grin as well and then left. Logan gestured to the table. “Come on. Let’s eat. Kneel by the chair on that cushion.” 

I took a deep breath, remembering that today was Logan’s day. I walked over and knelt as ordered. He pulled off the cover and sat, and the aroma of cinnamon and strawberries made my mouth water. “Mmm. French toast. My favorite.” 

It was mine too. He probably knew that and did this on purpose. 

He cut up a bite and placed it in his mouth, chewing slowly and grinning. “This is amazing.” He sat back and sipped at his coffee, then cut up another piece and ate it. I swallowed, staring at the ground. What does a girl have to do to get fed around here?

“River. Open.” He snapped me out of my thoughts and I opened my mouth, feeling the warm fork being pressed down over my tongue. I closed my lips as he pulled out, trapping the heavenly bread inside my mouth before chewing and trying to hide a smile. This was amazing. 

We sat in silence as we ate, enjoying the food way too much to ruin it with whatever fight would be caused by talking. He gave me water every few bites, and I drank greedily. When the food was all gone, he leaned down, kissed the top of my head, and stood. “You were such a good girl. I’m very pleased. Now why don’t we take a deep breath and think about how we can carry this behavior into the rest of today.” 

I don’t know why I was so rebellious, maybe it was a middle child thing, but if he kept saying things like that, I could almost guarantee my behavior was going to go downhill. Fast.


	17. Chapter 17

River

For the next few hours, Logan had me practice kneeling properly, getting into different positions, and walking on a leash. Any time I messed up, he would correct me with the crop. Usually he didn’t hit hard, just a light smack, but sometimes when I grumbled or rolled my eyes I received a sharp whip to whatever area of my body was closest to him. By the time Ryan brought in our meal, my body was covered in red lines. 

Lunch was baked chicken with veggies and was a million times more delicious than anything I’d ever had at the facility. Again, I knelt while he fed me. It was humiliating, but it wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to me, and it was his day…

After lunch, Ryan collected the tray and left us, and Logan eyed me. “How about we do something really simple for a little while? Hmm?” 

I swallowed and shrugged. “Okay.” 

He smirked. “I wasn’t really asking your opinion, but I’m glad you agree with my course of action.” My trainer chuckled to himself. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. He'd phrased it as a question. How was I supposed to know I wasn't supposed to respond? “I have some paperwork I need to get done so you’re going to come sit on my lap and see how very still you can be until I finish it.” 

I swallowed, shaking my head. “I don’t want to.” 

“River. You’re going to punished for refusing to obey me. Don’t make it worse.” 

But I couldn’t I didn’t want to sit in his lap, I didn’t want to touch him or him to touch me… I didn’t want any of this. “No, no please.” I shook my head more. “Please don’t make me.” 

“Hey.” He shushed me, soothingly. “Hey, hey. Shh. It’s okay, River. I’m not going to touch you anywhere you don’t like. You’re just going to sit on my lap and nothing else will happen. I promise. Okay?” he reached out and took my hand, slowly pulling me towards him as I wiped a tear from my eye. No. No. I didn’t want this. I couldn’t do this. This was so wrong. 

“Stop!” I screamed, pulling away and jumping to my feet. “Don’t touch me!” 

“River-“ 

“No! You can’t- I don’t- I don’t want this!” 

He sighed. “River. Love. We were having a really good morning. Why this? Why is this what’s upsetting you and not leash training or positions?” 

“Those upset me.” I crossed my arms, back against the bed, tears trailing down my cheeks. “I hated them.” 

“But you didn’t pull away from me, or scream. Is it because you were punished just before? Do you need another punishment to bring you back?” 

“No.” I cried, shaking my head again. “No, no, no.” 

“Okay.” He held up both hands, still in his chair. “Then what? What do you need?” 

“I need… I need some clothes. And fresh air. And home.” 

“Those are not things you need, River. They’re things you want. I can’t give those to you. But I can give you a hug. Or more water. A nap. Or a punishment. But I need you to come back to me calmly.” He stood and I hugged myself more tightly, shaking. 

“I don’t want to sit in your lap.” I sobbed, feeling his arms around me, hugging me tightly. 

“Why?” his words were a whisper, tickling my ear. 

“Because.” I sobbed, hiccuping. He was silent. “Because,” I cried again, “I used to do that with my dad. And you’re not my dad.” 

“No.” he kissed the top of my head. “I’m not. And your dad is gone. But River, that doesn’t mean that no one will ever love you again. You can still find happiness, be happy. But not if you spend your entire existence in this room. So help me train you as fast as possible so I can give you to your new owner and you can make your new life.” 

“I want my old life.” 

“I know. But it’s gone and there’s no sense in being upset about it. So let’s just take a deep, deep breath,” he breathed in, and I copied his actions, “and breathe out. One more time in.” he smiled. “Very good, and out.” I obeyed. 

“Good. Now, let’s sit down and maybe you can take a little nap while I work.” 

He walked me over to his chair and I sniffled, not wanting to obey but too tired to fight. Logan sat and pulled me onto his lap, then scooted the chair in. He wrapped an arm around my waist and picked up a pen with his other hand, going over his books. I sat up straight for a while, but eventually I settled down into his chest. And then, hours later, I woke up with my face buried in the crook of his neck. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

I blinked at him, and he smiled. “Sweet girl.” He kissed my forehead before I had time to react. “River, love, hop down. We’re going to do some yoga once you’re more awake.” 

 

After yoga we had dinner. I’d done it a few times with my mom and already knew most of the poses, but it was because I had to do it that made it not fun. Dinner was delicious, as I was coming to expect, roast and potatoes. And then Logan smiled down at me. “We’re going to take a bath.” 

“Together?” 

He raised an eyebrow.

“Together, Master?” I amended. 

He didn’t seem much more pleased. “Yes, together. But you can sit anywhere you like in the tub. Okay?” 

I nodded and followed him into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and I watched as the water began pouring in. He added some salts and urged me in. I sat down on the right, he sat on the left. I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to hide myself. He didn’t say anything. “Are you feeling better?” he asked, finally. 

“Yes Master.” I nodded, truthfully. Between the nap, a little bit of exercise, some really great food, and these salts, I was feeling better. 

He smiled. “Good. You know tomorrow is your surgery.” 

I swallowed, nodding. I’d remembered. 

“Are you nervous? Do you have any questions?” 

“No, Master. I had surgery before.” 

“On your rotator cuff. I saw that. So you remember?” 

I nodded. “Yes sir. I can’t eat anything after midnight, they’ll put me under, I’ll be back by tomorrow night.” 

He smiled at me. “Good girl. You’ll have a cast on it for a while but after that your cuff will go back on and stay on permanently. We’ll try to keep it from getting hurt further, but I need you to act in a manner that keeps me from having to restrain you. Are we clear?” 

I knew what I was agreeing to. It was just hard. “Master, I’m not going to be perfect.” I made a face. 

“I know, River.” He nodded, patiently. “But you can try, and that’s what I need from you. For you to try.” 

“Yes sir.” 

He smiled. “Good. Let’s get to bed.” 

“What?” I breathed in. 

Logan raised his eyebrows. “River?” 

Making a face, I shook my head slowly. “What, what… what are we…” 

“We’re going to get in bed. I’m going to cuff your wrists to the headboard, and then we’re going to fall asleep.” 

Swallowing, I crossed my arms. “You’re not going to touch me?” 

He shrugged. “Probably. It’s not that big a bed.” 

“Yeah, but, I mean…” 

“We will be naked, and I will probably hold you. But I won’t kiss you, or penetrate any of your holes. Does that make you feel better?” 

Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head. “Not when you say it like that.” 

Logan smirked. “You’re funny. Come on. Let’s brush our teeth and get in bed.” 

 

True to his word, Logan did nothing more than throw an arm around my waist that night. I mean, I was still kind of freaked out that his penis was touching my butt, and his fingers were brushing my pubic hair… and the fact that we were in bed together at all… but eventually I fell asleep. 

When I woke up the next morning, we did our routine all over again. I tried to be good, but there was definitely some crying and yelling in the shower that I refuse to apologize for. 

Once we were finished, Ryan brought Logan breakfast and I sat silently at his feet, my stomach growling, hating my stupid former trainer for breaking my wrist so I now had to fast breakfast. But just as we were finishing up, there was a knock on the door and Ryan entered. 

“Ryan. Perfect timing.” Logan raised his eyebrows and threw his napkin on the tray, but Ryan shook his head and looked concerned. “Master, there’s a guest.” 

Logan nodded and looked down at me. “Continue kneeling, River. When I return you’d better be in this exact pose.” 

“Yes Master.” I mumbled to the floor, receiving a swat. He left with Ryan, who had collected the tray and locked the door behind them. 

I stared at the ground, wondering what my brother was doing. Still in a cage, probably. Hands in mittens and legs cuffed together. Or maybe he was advancing quickly and was already doing all of these horrible things willingly. That would be just like Beckett to excel at being a sex slave. And he’d have a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, too. 

In seconds, I was mad at the only person in the world who understood what I was going through. It was better than being sad, or worried, so I focused my energy on that until the door opened and Logan entered. “River? Stand.” 

I obeyed, standing a bit shakily after kneeling for so long, turning to face him. 

“Please sit in the chair.” He nodded to the seat closest to me, and again I obeyed. “River, I have a detective here to speak with you. She’s looking into what happened to your family. You just need to answer her questions as truthfully as possible, okay?” 

“Uh, yeah.” I nodded, confused. They were here? Now? “I mean, Yes. Master. Sorry.” 

He gave me a soft smile. “It’s okay. We’ll work on it. Detective?” he glanced out the door and nodded to someone. “Come on in. Remember, we only have a moment.” 

A smart looking woman dressed in a grey pantsuit and black heels walked in, her blonde hair pulled up tightly with a clip and her lipstick bright red. She gave Logan a nod, first, and then me a kind look before sitting down on the other side of the table. Logan stood against the bedpost. 

“Hi, River. I’m Detective Samuels. How are you?” 

I swallowed. “I’m good. Thank you.” 

She nodded. “Good. I just need to ask you a few questions about the day your family passed away. Just think back and try to answer them as best you can, okay?” 

“Yes ma’am.” I nodded. 

“Great.” She pulled out a small notepad and pen and looked up at me. “Before you went to bed the night before, was there anything strange that happened? Anything out of the ordinary?” 

I furrowed my brow, trying to remember, shaking my head slowly. “No.”

“Ma’am.” Logan corrected me. 

“No ma’am.” I tried to hide my annoyance. “Both of my parents were home from work at a normal time. I had a swim meet the next morning, so Beckett and my mom cooked dinner and I helped Lilia with her homework, Dad was watching a game and doing some work…” I closed my eyes. “We all ate together in the dining room, but Beckett wanted to get up to his room to play video games online with his friend so he finished fast. Lilia wasn’t feeling well, so my dad took her to bed early. My mom and I watched one of our favorite shows together and then I went to bed.” 

“And you went right to sleep?” 

I shrugged. “I read for a little while. But then yeah, right to sleep.” 

She nodded. “Nothing in the house was out of place? You didn’t notice any doors or windows open? Your parents didn’t stay up extra late?” 

I shook my head again, looking at her. “I don’t think so.” 

“Okay. That’s good. So then you fell asleep. And the next thing you remember?” 

“Beckett was shaking me awake. There was smoke coming in. Lilia wasn’t moving. He said she didn’t have a pulse and she wasn’t breathing. He said that Mom and Dad were already gone.” My throat caught and my voice hitched. Tears prickled in my eyes and I crossed my arms. “I wanted to go see for myself but the room was getting so smoky we could barely see each other. So we grabbed my hammock and clipped one of the carabiners to my bed frame and climbed down it far enough to get to the ground. By then the Fire Men were already there.” 

“And your parents… was there anyone that didn’t like them? Or that they didn’t like?” 

I shrugged. “Not really. I mean they had some people they complained about sometimes, but no one I knew. Just business people.” 

“Okay, River.” Detective Samuels smiled at me. “Anything else you’d like to tell me?” 

Biting my lip, I thought. This might be the last time I got any information on what happened to my parents, and I didn’t want to waste it. But I’d told her everything I remembered. “No ma’am.” 

“That’s fine.” She nodded. “If you remember anything, no matter how small, tell your master and he’ll get in touch with me. We’re doing everything we can to find out who did this.” 

“Thank you.” I smiled at her, wiping away my tears. “Will you let me know? Am I allowed to know?” I turned to Logan, worried. 

Logan smiled kindly at me. “I’ll keep you updated, River. Okay?” 

I nodded and Logan turned to the detective. “Thank you. I’ll show you out.”


	18. Chapter 18

Beckett

 

The next morning, after breakfast, a detective stopped in to see me. Logan led her in, introduced us. She was really nice, chatted with me for a few minutes, said she’d already seen River, and told Cara she’d keep her updated. She didn’t have any information for me about my family, but it was reassuring to know someone was looking in to it. I wished I could remember some magic golden nugget of knowledge that helped me solve the mystery, but everything had seemed so normal that day. 

When the detective left, Logan looked over at his wife. 

“We’re heading out.”

Cara nodded. “How long do you think it’ll take?” 

Logan shrugged. “They have to rebreak it before they can set it, and he wants to check on her nerves so… three, four hours? I have no idea. And then we have to wait for her to wake up…” 

“Do you already have the physical therapy stretches ready for her and everything? You don’t need to keep her away from your training room for too long.” She pointed out.

I swallowed, wanting to scream. How could they talk about my sister and not give me details about what was happening to her? It was probably a test. They knew I was struggling not to ask questions and speak out of turn. 

Logan made a face. “She’s actually not doing that poorly. Skittish and wary still, but I really think I’ll get to her soon.” 

“You still think she won’t ever be submissive?” 

Almost choking back my snort, I blinked away tears of laughter, doing my best to hold still. River? Submissive? You have a better chance of freeing all the slaves first. 

“No. But she’ll be good. And that’s what he wants.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “Our appointment’s for nine, so we’ve got to get going. And it’ll take me a good twenty minutes just to get her to stop fighting the leash…” 

Ugh. Leashes. 

Cara smirked and nodded. “By, babe. Good luck. And send Ryan up for the dishes, please.” 

He left, and Cara turned to me. I could see her from the corner of my eye. So far, the hardest part about being here was keeping my eyes from looking around. Staying still wasn’t the worst, and staying silent wasn’t terrible, but not looking when I caught movement to the sides? Nearly impossible. 

Cara sat down and reached out to pet my hair. “Her wrist was broken and healed incorrectly. They’re having to fix it, but she’s going under general anesthesia, so you don’t have to worry.” 

“Thank you for telling me.” I smiled up at her. 

“You’re welcome. She told Logan she’s not scared because she’s had surgery before.” 

I nodded. “Yes, Mistress. She has.”

“Good. She also said she had no idea her wrist was even broken in the first place. I think her cuffs were so tight they kept her limb numb, which isn’t great but probably helped a little with the pain. Plus she was so overstimulated with other sensations…” 

She probably wasn’t wrong. I swallowed, pushing the thoughts of the facility out of my mind when they came flashing back. If I ever managed to get free, I’d spend my life getting those places shut down. 

“Alright. I think today we’re going to talk about breasts.” 

 

River

 

Logan returned after about half an hour of being gone with the detective. I was crying, missing my family so much that it made me physically sick, so when he walked back in the room I was hunched over the toilet, dry heaving. 

“Oh sweetie.” He sighed, holding my hair back and walking me over to the sink. “Are you finished?” 

I nodded, sobbing. 

He wet a cloth and wiped off my face, then put my hair in a ponytail and handed me a toothbrush. I cleaned my mouth and then he helped me slip into a tunic. “We’ve got to get going. You ready?” he asked, brushing the hair from my eyes. 

“Yes sir.” I wiped away a tear. 

“Okay.” He kissed the top of my head, and it actually felt good. Kind of like he was protecting me. It was… fatherly. 

I didn’t like that feeling. 

We walked back into the bedroom and he went over to his closet and pulled out a leash. 

Making a face, I shook my head slowly. “Please, Master-“ 

“River. Stop there.” He held up a hand. “One, you do not ask me to stop anything. Two, you’re insane if you think you’re leaving this room without being leashed. And three, it’s the law that pleasure slaves are on a leash outside of the house, as is hospital policy for all slaves. Now, I’ll let this one slide, but next time you’ll be punished. Am I clear?” 

“Yes Master.” I told the ground, miserably. 

He swatted my thigh with a smack that burned, and I hissed as he clipped the leash on and locked it. Leash training kicked in, and I kept my hands by my side so I wouldn’t accidentally touch it. I’d heard from Van that some leashes shocked the slaves. That would be horrible, and I’d probably die of electrocution if this leash was that way, which it wasn’t. 

“Do you need a gag or blindfold, cuffs? Something more to remember to behave yourself?” 

I swallowed, frowning at the ground. How would any of those things help me behave myself? “No, Master.” 

He nodded. “Right then. Come on.” We stepped outside the room back into the hallway I’d seen a few days ago. I hadn’t looked around before, but now I noticed how warm it was, with cozy wood floors and a cool blue color that coated the walls. My mom loved blue. Every room in our house was some – had been… some shade of blue. My dad had put down hardwood a few years back, and the end table looked like something my mom would’ve purchased. I blinked back another round of tears as we neared the staircase and Logan nodded to the banister. “Hold on. I don’t want you fainting or falling or anything.” 

He turned around so quickly that I didn’t feel the need to respond, just obey. We walked down the stairs, and there was Ryan, waiting on us. He smiled at Logan. “Master. Here are your keys and cell phone. Would you like a jacket?” he held out a light zip up hoodie, but Logan shook his head. “No, it’s nice out. Thank you, Ryan. Go on upstairs and collect the dishes from Cara’s room. And ask Ellie to make sure dinner for us is light in case River’s stomach disagrees with any of the medications.” 

“Yes Master.” Ryan nodded, smiling. “Anything else?” 

“Nope, that’ll do it. See you later, buddy.” 

“See you, Master. Good luck, River.” 

I glanced up, startled. “Uh, thank you.” I nodded. 

Logan smiled down at me as we made our way outside. “Ryan’s nice. You don’t have to be so nervous around him.” 

“Sorry.” I sighed. “He’s just so professional.” 

“You’ll be that way soon. He has a sense of humor but he also has discernment.” Logan opened up the passenger’s side for me and nodded for me to sit. Then, he reached into the glove compartment and pulled a bag around the size of a toiletries bag out. I frowned, then nodded, remembering. It was a slave car harness. They were required if the slave wasn’t in a cage, and we’d broken the law the other day by not using one. “Sit back.” He ordered. 

I sat against the seat and looked away, embarrassed. Why did everything in the world have to revolve around humiliating slaves? 

He pulled the straps from the bag and began clipping them into the metal loops built in to the seat, then he crossed them over my chest and locked it off in the middle with a padlock. They clipped together on their own for when you didn’t need to restrain a slave, or when a slave was driving, but I guess I hadn’t earned that level of trust yet. 

Logan threw the bag back into the compartment and shut my door, walking around to the driver’s side and hopping in. He started up the car, turned the radio on, and drove off. 

 

Beckett

 

“Beckett…” Cara’s patience was wearing thin. “Just touch them.” 

“But… it’s not… I mean, we’re not-“ 

“We’re not what? I own you, I gave you an order, now obey me.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut and just reached forward, placing my hands on her breasts. Yes, they were amazing. No, I did not want a woman to force me to do this. It was a real turn off.

She sighed, glancing down. “Beckett. Relax. Just feel them. Keep your eyes closed and just explore. Touch the nipples, come here…” she guided my thumbs the hard nubs and had me pinch them as she moaned. Then, she helped me squeeze and knead and move until my hands had drifted and we were now very close. “There he is.” She smiled, and my eyes popped open, glancing down. It wasn’t really fair, since it was trapped. I was kind of hurt by the whole idea, honestly, that she would fuss for me not getting it up, but then also not let me keep it up. “Now use your lips. Your tongue…” 

I winced, but leaned forward and kissed her chest. None of this was happening how I’d wanted it to, but I couldn’t complain too much. At least I wasn’t locked in a cage and full bondage being forced into taking a penis I had even less desire for. At least this was a woman, and at least she wasn’t being horrible about it. In fact, Cara was beautiful. Her skin was porcelain, her eyes were a shocking blue, her hair hung in black curls… 

“Oh yes. Beckett. Yes.” She whispered in my ear. The more I thought of her, the more my mind drifted and my hands did their own thing. I was actually getting pretty good at this. She moved my mouth from one nipple to the other and sighed contently. Maybe, if my new owner was this beautiful, I could survive the next seven years.


	19. Chapter 19

River

Logan pulled in to the hospital parking lot, pulled the car into a free space, got out, and came around to release me. He took my leash in hand and led me to the double doors that read “Outpatient Slave Surgery”. 

We walked inside and Logan seemed to already know where he was going. “Take a lot of kids to get their bones fixed?” I asked, snarkily as we waited for the elevator. 

“I did not give you permission to speak and that was incredibly disrespectful. So for the remainder of our time here, you will be naked.” 

In seconds my tunic was gone and in his hand. I gasped, trying to cover myself, but he grabbed my wrists and produced cuffs out of nowhere, it seemed, keeping my hands behind my back. Before I could even protest, he was close to my ear, “Say another word and I’ll put a plug in between your legs with streamers coming down from it so everyone knows it’s there.” He opened up the small bag he’d brought with him, showing me a vaginal plug with tassels on the bottom. I gaped over my shoulder at him and he raised his eyebrows. The elevator dinged and he pushed me forward. 

At the last second, a man stepped in, grinning down at me. “How old is she?” 

“Fifteen.” 

The man reached forward to stroke my cheek, and I jerked back into Logan. My owner held up a hand. “Don’t touch, please.” He told the man, then hit my thigh sharply with his hand. I winced, and he brushed my hair gently. “Don’t flinch away when someone touches you. You’re a thing to be touched.” 

That stupid man snickered and watched as my eyes filled with tears and I tried to turn my face away. Logan looked up at the man. “She’s a trainee. Had her less than a week.” 

“I see.” The man nodded just as the lift stopped and the doors opened. “Do you have a card? I’d be interested in her when she’s trained.” 

I bit my lip, glaring at the floor as tears rolled down my face. 

“She’s already been purchased.” Logan’s hands gripped my shoulders. “But thank you for your interest.” he pulled his right hand off my shoulder and reached into his pocket, pulling out a business card and handing it over. "In case you're ever in the market again, though." 

The man took it and smiled. "Cheers."

Swallowing back a sob, I listened as the man left and we went up one more floor. The next time it stopped, Logan ushered me out, keeping a firm grip on my upper arm with one hand and my leash with the other. We headed over to an orthopedic surgery office and up to the front counter. He signed us in and then led me over to the waiting area and sat, nodding for me to kneel on the ground. 

“Stop crying.” He sighed. “You’re acting like people care that you’re naked.” 

“I care.” I sniffled, quietly. 

“River, it doesn’t matter. People are used to seeing slaves naked.” 

“Then why is this a punishment?” I snapped, lowly. “Because you want to humiliate me?” 

“Yes. It’s important for you to desensitize yourself to this sort of thing. Your future master might not let you wear clothes. You never know. Now hush or I’ll make good on my threat.” 

Of course that conversation never actually happened. I didn’t say anything at all, and he stopped talking after “naked”. That’s just how it played out in my head. In real life, he probably wouldn’t have hesitated to order me to open my legs wide and shove that thing up into me. 

“Logan Everett.” A nurse called. We stood and I followed him through the door. She led us to an exam room and patted the bed. Logan had to lift me up since my hands were cuffed behind me, and the nurse smiled. “How’s she been feeling?” 

Logan shrugged. “Fine. Her movement is limited, of course, from the break, but other than that there’s been minimal swelling and it hasn’t seemed to be bothering her.” 

The nurse nodded and took my blood pressure, temperature, and a small sample from me, then left. A minute or two later, there was a knock on the door and the doctor from Logan’s house entered, smiling. “Hey buddy.” 

“Houston. Hey.” Logan grinned. 

“Everything looks good, still waiting for her labs. She fasted?” 

“Yes.” Logan nodded. “Hasn’t eaten since midnight.” 

“Great, well, once we get her blood work back we can rock and roll. While we’re waiting let’s get an x-ray.” 

Logan pulled me off the table and we walked down the hallway and into a small room with a machine. Logan uncuffed my hands and stayed beside me as the technician laid my hand in place. Then, they both walked out, warning me to stay still, as the machine took its pictures. 

Back the exam room, I was uncuffed and silent as Logan plopped me back on the table. The door was closed, and he turned to me. “You feeling okay?” 

I nodded. “Yes Master. Thank you.” 

“Good girl.” He walked up to me. “Kiss me.” 

What? 

“Master…” 

“I gave you an order and you’re already on thin ice today.” His tone shifted. “Obey me, River.” 

I’d never kissed anyone before. There had been plenty of boys I’d wanted to kiss, but with an overprotective dad and brother I’d barely even had a conversation with a hot guy, much less kissed one. And now…

Leaning forward, hesitantly, I placed my lips on his. Because literally, that’s all I did. He pulled away a centimeter. “River. Kiss me.” 

“Master, I don’t know how.” I whined. “Can you do it first? And then let me try?” 

Brushing a strand of hair from my face, he nodded. “Yes. But only because you asked sweetly.” he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. His tongue broke through and felt around my mouth. I didn't love it, but it was better than him shoving his penis inside my mouth so I didn't fight it. I didn't really know what to do, so I just sat there, still. 

He pulled back a little and whispered into my cheek. “It's okay. Just do what i'm doing, only be less assertive. Kiss back, softly, and touch my tongue with yours.” 

I nodded, wanting to cry. Why was everything so hard? Did every pleasure slave have this much trouble? Gingerly, I leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, letting him take control again, but responding like I thought he'd want me to. His phone buzzed, and he turned his head away, distracted. I sat still, trying not to glance over at what he was reading. “Keep going.” he muttered. 

Unsure, I continued to kiss him, trying not to block his view of his cell phone. I kissed the side of his mouth and up to his ear, and he texted back, then turned back to me and kept going on the lips. 

By the time the doctor came back, I was breathless. He smiled at Logan. “We're ready for her. You can come on back.” 

Logan picked up my leash and lifted me off the bed and onto my feet. We walked down the hallway and over to an area with a lot of beds separated by curtains. A nurse was waiting there by one of the beds... but they weren't normal hospital beds. They had thin, plastic mattresses over them, like on a cot, and Velcro restraints. I swallowed, missing a step, and Logan noticed. “Hey,” he stopped at the curtain, facing me and placing his hands on my arms. “It's okay. They're going to fix you right up and then we can go home. The restraints are just to keep you calm.” 

“They don't make me feel very calm, Master.” I whispered. 

He smiled, kissing my forehead. “You need to get used to them. Come on.” he took my arm and led me over, helping me hop up onto the bed and then gently pushing my shoulders down onto the bed. He held my hand and looked into my eyes as the nurses strapped down my limbs. “You're doing great, love.” he kissed me again. I felt the coolness of an alcohol wipe on my arm and felt the sharp sting of an IV needle, my whimpers escaping into Logan's mouth. “It's okay. I know it's not fun. You're doing fine.” 

“Okay, Mr. Everett, we're ready with the anesthesia.” 

He smiled and moved away, brushing my hair out of my face. “Look at me, love.” he ordered, and I did. The mask came down and I smelled the fuzzy, strange smell... breathed it in deep. The faster we could get this over with...

 

Beckett

 

Cara had been texting with Logan all day, and it took everything in me not to ask about River. Finally, a few hours after lunch, and smiled at me. “Beckett, you've been a very good boy and I'd like to reward you.” she pulled a small clip from a drawer and nodded to me. “Turn around and place your hands in cuffed pose.” 

I obeyed, facing away from her and pushing my wrists into the small of my back. She clipped the cuffs together and screwed the lock shut, then grabbed a leash from the hook by the door and snapped it on the front of my collar. “We're going to go downstairs. Stay right with me and do not fight me.” 

“Yes Mistress.” I nodded, eyes lowered appropriately, wondering if I even dared to hope this meant I was getting to see my sister. 

She led me out of the room, through the hallway, down the stairs, and to the foyer. Ryan was already there, reaching to open the door. And as it swung open...

“Thank you Ryan.” Logan smiled to the boy, then grinned at Cara as he walked over to us. “Hi love.” he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips... over River. 

River was there, in front of me, asleep in Logan's arms. She had her tunic on, her arm in a protective cast, draped over her stomach. He carried her carefully, bridal style, and smiled at me. “Hi Beckett.” 

“Master.” I nodded. 

“You can look at her. She's fine. Should wake up in an hour or so. Surgery went well, cast should come off in about two weeks. Really her wrist is fine but they want to make sure slaves don't try to rip out their stitches.” 

Yes. Because we're suicidal. 

“Thank you.” I looked up at them. “For allowing me to see her. Thank you.” 

Cara smiled at me. “You're welcome. Maybe in a few weeks the two of you will be able to come downstairs more often. For you that means showing me that I can trust you inherently. Following my every command immediately. You're a good boy, Beckett, and you're doing well.” 

“Thank you, Mistress.” I smiled at her. “And thank you, Master, for taking care of my sister.” 

“You're welcome, but it is my job.” He winked at me. “And Beckett, you don't have to worry. I'm very good at my job.” the master sighed. “She's getting heavy so I'm going to put her down. Ryan can you have Ellie make some soup for her?” he started up the stairs as Ryan responded. 

Cara turned to me. “Well, while we're down here, why don't I show you around?” 

“Please, Mistress.” I smiled, happy to be out of that room. 

“Okay.” she nodded, leading me around. Their house was nice, not grand, but comfortable. They had a sitting room, a study, a living room, a formal dining room, kitchen, guest bathroom, and guest bedroom downstairs. “Of course you're to follow me unless I say otherwise, but if you do find yourself at a loose end, you're welcome in the living room and kitchen. You may also borrow a book from the study, but knock before you enter if the door is closed, ask permission if it is open and one of us is in there, and make sure to put the book back precisely where you found it. In the kitchen, you may sit at the table and talk with Ellie or Ryan, but I do not want you helping them in any way. Using knives or cooking could hurt you, and cleaning could wear down your skin. I want you looking perfect for when we sell you.” 

“Yes Mistress.” I swallowed. 

“Upstairs we have the master bedroom, my training room, Logan's training room, and three slave bedrooms. One of them is unoccupied, so it's used for storage or an extra guest room, and then Tyler's room. He's Logan's nephew. His parents passed a few years ago so we raised him.” 

How nice for him. 

“The only room upstairs you are allowed in is my training room. Am I clear?” 

“Yes Mistress.” 

“Good. It's been a long day. Why don't we go to the living room and you can massage my feet?” 

 

River 

 

The only word to describe what I felt when I woke up was exhaustion. My whole body was sore and I felt as if i'd been asleep for ages. 

Except for my arm. That felt fine. 

“Hey there.” Logan smiled down at me when I blinked my eyes open, and I tried my best to mask my disappointment in him being real and this all not being some horrible dream. “How do you feel?” 

“Tired, Master.” I croaked. Faintly, I realized that I was strapped down to the bed again. This was not my favorite part about slavery. 

He brushed my cheek with his thumb and made a face. “I'm sure. Are you hungry?” 

I shook my head. “Not really, but thank you Master.” 

“You're doing much better with your speech.” he noted. “Remembering to address me correctly. Good girl.” 

“Thank you, Master. Do I have to say it every time I speak?” 

He shrugged. “For now. Once you get used to it you'll be able to figure out for yourself when it's appropriate to drop it. And it depends on your new owner as well. I'd play it safe at first, though.” he told me, gently, as if he were telling me a secret. “Do you need to go to the restroom?” 

“No Master.” I shook my head. 

“No thank you, Master.” he corrected, gently tapping my nose with his finger. “Remember that being able to use the bathroom is a privilege.” 

And just like that, I was angry again. “Or I could just crap and piss in your bed.” I pointed out. 

His eyebrows raised slightly, but he didn't seem surprised. “You could. But I have other sleeping options and you don't. So is that what you really want to do?” 

I swallowed, glaring at the foot of the bed. 

“Do you think you can try just a bit of soup?” It was as if that conversation had never happened. 

“Yes Master.” my voice was practically silent. 

“Good girl.” he reached over for the bowl and pulled out the spoon carefully, bringing it over my lips. My head was propped up enough that it wasn't hard to sip at the broth. “Good?” he asked. 

I nodded, swallowing. “Yes, thank you Master.” 

“Ellie is a wonderful cook.” he smiled, spooning out more. “She made this just for you from scratch.” 

“Could you tell her thank you for me, Master?” I asked, just before swallowing down more. 

He nodded. “I will. How is that? Want more or would you like to stop?” 

Now that I'd tasted the soup, I was pretty hungry... “More, please, Master.” 

Logan was quiet as I ate a few more spoonfuls of the soup and then shook my head. “No more, please.” 

He set the bowl down. “May I please stop eating, Master.” he told me. “Say it.” 

“May I please stop eating, Master?” 

“Good girl.” he held up a glass of ice water and brought the straw over. “Try to take a few sips.” 

I obeyed, thankful for the cool water. “Finished?” he asked. 

I nodded. “Yes, thank you Master.” 

“Better.” he smiled. “You're getting the hang of it. Now, River, we need to have a talk for a moment. Do you think you can be brave for me?” 

I frowned, looking at him, concerned. “Yes Master.” 

“Good.” he stroked my hair gently. “The doctor says that other than your arm, you're all healed and there's not reason I can't continue your training.” 

My breath hitched in my throat. So that meant-

“Tomorrow we're going to start working with toys. Dildos, plugs... those sorts of things. We'll start off slow and small and work our way up. It's going to happen, so the braver you can be and the less fight you put up, the faster we can get through it. Okay?” 

I felt tears burning in my eyes, and I looked away. 

“River.” he prompted me, gently. “Sex isn't a horrible thing. It can be good, with the right master. Let me show you. Open your mind and trust me. You might actually enjoy it.” 

Shaking my head, the tears flowed freely. “I don't want to, Master. I'm sorry, i'm too scared.” 

“I know it's scary. But we are going to talk about it, and i'm going to explain everything, and show you what i'm about to do before I do it. Okay? I'm not going to tie you down and hurt you. It will be very gentle. Let's make a deal, alright? I'll go slowly, and if you start to panic, you'll tell me. And I'll stop. And we'll talk about what is upsetting you. Okay?” 

I nodded. “Okay.” 

“Good. Practice these words: Master, may I please have a moment to compose myself?” 

Swallowing, I sniffled. “Master, may I please have a moment to compose myself.” 

“Good job. If you need me to stop and talk about something further, that's what you'll say. Alright?” 

“Thank you, Master.” 

“You're welcome, sweet girl. And tonight, if you start feeling worried about it when you're trying to fall asleep, just remind yourself that you can stop me at any time and I'll listen to you. It doesn't mean we won't continue training, because we have to. But it does mean that I will answer your questions and allow you a moment to prepare yourself.” 

I nodded again. “Okay. Thank you Master.” 

“You're welcome, love.”


	20. Chapter 20

River

 

I didn't have trouble falling asleep that night, but only because of the pain killers Logan gave me. 

The next morning, I woke up sweating. 

After a potty break and a brief trip around the room to get my blood flowing, Logan readjusted me on the bed so I could move a bit more while we tried to catch a bit more sleep before getting up for the day. He locked a chain about a foot long to my collar and chained my ankles to the frame. The ankle chains were long enough that I could turn over on my stomach if I wanted to, but short enough that he was able to back away from me in a second or two. Still, when I awoke he was under me, my head resting on his shoulder, his arm around me, my right arm flung over his chest. How had...

I didn't want to think about it. Instead, I remembered that one of those horrible objects would be going inside me today, and nothing I could do would stop it. 

“River, love?” he whispered down into my hair. 

I jerked, not realizing he was awake. 

“It's okay. Settle down. You were thinking about it, weren't you?” 

“Yes Master.” I answered, miserably. 

“Would it be better if we just got it over with, first thing after breakfast?” 

I swallowed and then nodded. Less time to psych myself out. 

“Okay.” he huffed, checking his watch. “It's time to get up anyways. How's your arm feel?” 

“A little sore, Master.” 

“You can have more of your pain killers after you eat.” 

“Thank you Master.” 

He reached over and unlocked my restraints, then stood up and offered me a hand after i'd rolled over. I took it, knowing it wasn't really a suggestion, and followed him into the bathroom. He pulled out a small trash bag and roll of duct tape that Ryan had left us and started sealing it over my cast. “Think you can take a shower without restraints today?” he asked me, softly. 

I swallowed. 

“If you can, that's great. But if you can't, let me know. Because if you say yes, and then try to push me away, or jerk away, or even flinch too hard without being restrained, you could get hurt. Not only that, but I will punish you. So what do you think?” 

This day didn't need more punishment, so I shook my head. “I'm sorry, Master, I don't think I can.” 

“It's okay. I'm pleased that you could be honest with me. Come on.” we walked into the shower and he began clipping my cuffs to the walls. Once done, he turned on the water and smiled at me. “I'm going to kiss you. Are you ready?” 

Swallowing, I nodded, closing my eyes. 

“Open your eyes.” he ordered, his hand on the back of my head. “Look at me.” 

I obeyed, nervously. He leaned forward, his lips soft against mine. He was gentle, careful, pushing only a bit. Then, he pulled back. “I'm going to use tongue now. Don't bite me or try to pull away, okay?” 

I nodded, trying to stay calm as he came in, his tongue flickering into my mouth as if it were discovering a new land. He wandered all over, pushing my own down when it tried to come up. Then, he pulled back. “Don't do anything, just let me. Okay?” 

“Yes Master.” I whispered, feeling helpless. It wasn't horrible, but I hated it. 

He kissed me again, this time running his hands up and down my body before his right hand found it's way down there. He tickled the outside, and then, muffling my cries with his tongue, shoved a finger up and began pumping up and down. Breathless, I whimpered into his mouth. He laughed, pulling out and picking me up to wrap my legs around his waist and kiss me harder. 

“How did that feel?” he whispered. 

“Scary.” I whispered back. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“Yes.” 

“But did you like it?” 

Tears sliding down my face... “yes.” 

 

After breakfast, we walked over to the bed and he cuffed me down, even placing a velcro cuff around my upper arm to keep the side with the cast on it down. He pulled out a butt plug. It was black and bad a loop on the end for a finger. Logan held it up. “This is the smallest size I have. We'll start here and work our way up.” 

I gaped. “That's the smallest size you have?” I blurted out. 

He raised his eyebrows. “What's the proper way to ask a question?” 

Taking a breath, I bit the side of my lip before speaking up, “Master?” 

“Yes River.” his tone was ever patient. 

“May I ask a question?” 

“You may.” 

“That's the smallest plug you have?” 

“It is. And you'll be receiving a spanking before I put it in for speaking out of turn.” 

 

The spanking hurt, as did the smallest plug. He used plenty of lube and stretched me with his fingers, but even after being used at the training facility, it still hurt like hell. 

“Please, no, it won't fit.” I sobbed. 

Shh, shh.” his hand was on my back as I struggled against the restraints keeping me bent over the bed. “It will. You're okay. Deep breaths.” 

But I felt like I would burst. 

After it slipped in, he pumped it in and out over and over until it wasn't hard anymore. Then we did the next size up, no break in between. The whole time, he slipped his fingers under my front and played with some place between my legs, pinched my nipples, and stroked me. My sobbing never ceased. 

“Remember, River. Plugs are a tool. They're good for you, because they keep you open so it doesn't hurt as much when your master uses you.” 

“But does he have to use me there?” I sobbed into my arm.

“Shh.” he stroked my hair, turning me to face him. “River, love, he can use you wherever he wants. Now, we're going to move on to our next toy, okay?” 

“Please no.” I whimpered, pulling my chin away from him. “Don't, please.” 

“You're okay.” he told me, his voice soft. “This is a dildo. It's going to go up your vagina. I've coated it in lube because you're probably not ready for it, but anytime you can make yourself horny for your master-” he stopped when my sobs turned into wails. “River.” he admonished. 

"I can't.” 

“You can. I know you can because you're a strong girl. Now, i'm reaching down here...” I felt his fingers and sucked in a breath. “Good girl. Feel that? That's me getting you ready. Does it feel good?” 

More whimpering as he did... something down there. 

“Breathe with me. In. and out. Come on, in-” and on out, he pushed it in. I gasped, but it didn't hurt as much as I'd thought it would... it was just full. 

“Shh, shh.” he kept stroking me. “The plug is a tool, but a dildo is a toy. It's so that your master can play with you. It's fun. And some dildos do other fun things. This one... vibrates.” 

“Wait-” 

But he pushed the button anyways. I howled, struggling to get away from the vibrations, praying it would slide out on it's own. “Good girl. Shh, shh. You're doing good, just stay quiet. Calm down.” he stroked me, slowly. “Deep breaths. That's good girl.” he smiled down at me. “Alright. One more toy and then I'm going to leave you be for a little while.” 

“No. No.” I whimpered shaking my head. “Please.” 

He held up a pair of nipple clamps and my crying became louder. 

“I know.” he made a face. “But you'll be okay.” he reached down, grabbing my right nipple even as I tried to pull away. “River.” his voice was warning. “Do not pull away from me. You take whatever I give you and you like it.” 

I could hardly hear him over my sobbing. The clamp went on and I breathed out, quickly. He pulled a bit on the chain and I gasped. Grinning, he reached over, pinching my left nipple and then leaning down to suck it and nip at it with his teeth. He pulled off quickly and then clamped it. I groaned. 

“Good girl. No more. That's all the toys for right now.” he promised, leaning forward to kiss me. “Come on. Give me a kiss.” 

I was still crying, but it wasn't the most horrible thing in the world so I didn't fight as he kissed me and ran his fingers up and down my sides. 

 

Beckett

 

Our morning did not get off to a great start. 

I was exhausted from sleeping in the crate the night before (“It's good practice.” Cara had said, as if I'd never done it before) and in a bit of a mood when I woke up. Then she got me hard and didn't get me off in the shower, forcing a cage around my penis when we were done. Then she moved up a size in sounds and I accidentally blocked my penis when she came after it, earning me a solid beating with a strap. 

All before breakfast. 

I missed coffee. I mean, yeah, I missed my family and friends and being free, but they were dead or locked away in another room or ignorant of my dilemma. Coffee was right in front of me. Coffee could happen if she would let it. 

Sometimes I really hated her. 

So there I was, kneeling in front of her, naked, my member throbbing, my hands behind my back in cuffs as more punishment for trying to hide myself, as she guided spoonfuls of oatmeal into my mouth. Her eyes glanced over the newspaper, and she made a hmm at something interesting. I almost asked, “What is it?” but stopped myself just in time. There was so much to remember being a slave. 

“I think today we're going to go on a walk. Do you think you can handle that?” 

Swallowing, I kept my eyes on the ground. “Yes Mistress.” anything to get out of the house. Anything to possibly accidentally catch a glimpse of River. 

“You'll be naked, of course, and wearing a harness just in case.” she continue to read her paper as she spoke. “But I think some fresh air will do you good, and we need to work on how you act in public. You're already doing well in the bedroom.” 

“Thank you, Mistress.” 

“And aside from our little mishap this morning, you've been quite obedient.” 

So, after breakfast, she pulled out a bundle of straps and had me stand still as she adjusted them. First she replaced my butt plug with an attachable one, for the chastity harness portion. That was good, at least, since it kept me from being raped should a stranger pull me away from her, but there was a hole to place my cage through, displaying it to the world. Then, the straps continued up and through my collar hook as a leash. More straps around my middle, connecting with the back. And then over my shoulders, to keep from pulling too much on my collar. My hands were kept cuffed behind my back, and locked onto the lowest harness strap to keep me from raising them. Finally, she pulled out a ball gag. I didn't say anything, but she must have seen my hurt expression. “I know, love, but it serves only as a reminder. There's no reason for more punishment today if I can help it.” 

Teary-eyed, I nodded and opened my mouth to receive the device. She placed it inside and locked it behind my head. Then, she patted my cheek with a smile. “Alright, darling. Let's get you outside.”


	21. Chapter 21

Beckett

It was as bad as i'd expected it to be, walking around outside naked but for a harness, ball gag in my mouth, and hands tied behind my back. It was a solid ten minutes, four jeers from little boys, and a slap on my butt from an old man before I felt the tears trailing down my face. Cara had her right arm wrapped around my left as if we were lovers on a walk, my leash in her right hand stroking my arm with it. “Shh, love. I know it's hard but you'll get used to it. Don't worry about anyone but me. You're making me very happy by being very good, and my happiness is the only thing that should ever matter to you.” 

I took a deep breath and tried to hide my anger – actual anger – at her. I'd done so well. I'd been so good. But this kind of humiliation just wasn't fair. Why wasn't I being rewarded for being perfectly obedient? 

Because you're a slave. And obedient or not, she'll do what she wants to do. Your actions don't matter, except when you're bad and you receive punishment. 

Swallowing, I nodded. 

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and we kept on. It felt strange to wear shoes, even if they were thin leather thongs that I could feel every crack and pebble through. Aside from the bondage I'd been in at the center, which didn't count at all, I'd had no clothing on since the day i'd been sold. 

“Cara!” we heard, and she slowed to a stop, her eyes lighting up when she saw a friend walking towards us. Towards her. I just happened to standing there too. “I'm so glad I saw you. Are you and Logan coming to the party tomorrow evening?” 

“Yes.” Cara nodded. “I'm so sorry I forgot to RSVP.” 

“No trouble.” The woman smiled. She was short with bright red hair and rosy cheeks. Seemed nice enough. “Got a new one, I see.” 

“We both do. I've hardly seen him since.” 

“You two...” the woman shook her head. “You work nonstop. Anyway, I'll put you down. Any slaves coming along?” 

“We'll bring Ryan.” She nodded. “Please have a meal for him.” 

“Of course. Well, you have a lovely walk with this juicy little thing.” She grinned over at me. “And when he's up for sale, do let me know.” 

Cara chuckled. “Of course Ileen. Give it a few months and he'll be hard just by looking at you.” 

Oh. Good. Goals. 

The woman laughed and walked off. Cara kissed my shoulder, feeling me shudder under her lips. “Being sold's not horrible, Beckett.” She told me, quietly. “I'm working towards making you love your service. I want you to be happy because that's how you make your owner happy. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be excited to meet your new owner, settle in to your new life. And hopefully learn to love them.” 

I shook my head, softly and she sighed. “I know it's hard to believe. But I promise you. I'm very good at what I do.” 

 

River

 

I must have laid there for hours with that thing buzzing inside me and those clamps cutting into me. When finally he came over to take them off, I was sobbing incoherently and curling away from his touch. 

“Shh, shh.” he whispered, his hands redirecting themselves to my hips and gently grazing me in an oddly comforting way. “It's okay. I'll take away the pain. Just trust me.” 

Whimpers and tightly closed eyes and head turning to the side, but he just stroked my cheek with his finger. “None of that, love. Look at me. You're okay.” 

I opened my eyes and caught his gaze, his look growing soft as he saw the fear I must have been projecting. “Stay with me. This one's going to hurt, but you can handle it. Take it for your master.” he nodded, pulling off the right clamp with a quick tug and then furrowing his brow as I screamed in pain. “Shh, shh.” he told me, rubbing life back into my breast. “I know. One more.” 

“No, no.” I shook my head begging. “Please- ah!!!” I howled, closing my eyes again until he caught my chin in his free hand. 

“Eyes on me, darling.” 

I cried pitifully, but kept his gaze. “Good girl. Now let's take this out.” he reached down between my legs and clicked a button to turn off the vibrator. It was like a jolt... my body shocked at the lack of vibrations. He pulled it out carefully, and I gasped, feeling empty. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I know it's not fun.” he told me. “But it'll please your master. Now kiss me like a good girl.” he brushed his lips against my own, and I was too tired to fight so I just did as I was told. He took me forcefully, his tongue shoving it's way down my throat. 

This couldn't be what I was going to be like. I'd never make it... never survive. It was too much. “Please.” I begged when he pulled away. “I can't. I don't want to. Please.” 

“River.” he sighed. “You can. You've been so good this week, better than a lot of kids. You're so very strong. Learn to take it.” 

“No, no, no.” I begged, sobbing. Hours of that torture had melted me into an unrecognizable mass of weeping. “Please, no.” I don't know what I was begging him for. Freedom, I think. 

“You're stronger than you think you are.” he told me. “Just a little more." he carefully uncuffed my hands and feet, but kept my wrists pinned in one of his hands so I couldn't go far. "Hey, shh.” he smoothed my hair. “Look, I know it's scary, but it can be fun and exciting. You might even like it. Remember, people do this for fun.” he smiled at me. “And like I said, we're going to go slow. So, i'm going to sit right here and you're going to kneel down in front of me... go ahead.” 

I frowned, nodding and sliding off the bed and onto my knees. He released my wrists. 

“Good girl. Now, unless your master specifically tells you, you should always assume... what?” he asked. “What have we talked about a lot these past few days?” 

“To keep my hands behind my back.” I answered, still sobbing. 

“Very good. Now, with a handjob you'll probably be using lube. If that's the case, your master will give that to you to use. Right now, I want you to start off with your mouth first, and then we'll go to that. So hands behind your back.” 

I obeyed and he reached back and wrapped a leather cuff just above where my cast stopped, buckled it, and then clipped the cuffs together. I frowned at the ground, my eyes welling up with tears. 

“Good.” he spread his legs wider. “Open your mouth, stick out your tongue, and come up here and get it. Don't use your teeth, cover them with your lips.” he spoke slowly as I worked to obey, trying hard not to gag. “And just lick. Lick until the whole thing is nice and wet.” 

Tentatively, I stuck out my tongue and licked around the shaft, then took the head and sucked on it for a second before I got a tiny taste of piss and nearly vomited. I turned away and coughed, and he reached forward, holding me upright. “Take it easy.” he told me. “Just go at your own pace. Figure it all out. And then when you're ready, take as much as you can into your mouth.” 

I didn't think i'd ever be ready, but I knew his patience would only last so long, so I licked my way around until I felt like everything was slick, and then I slowly sucked the head a few more times, gently inching my way up.

“Good girl.” he petted my hair again. “Good girl. Keep going and every time you feel like it's going too deep, just swallow to open up your throat.”

I tried, but it was hard not to gag or gasp or cringe. I knew I was crying, but he hadn't said anything about it yet. 

“You're doing so well, sweetheart.” he whispered. “Keep going. See how much you can take.” 

I tried to take more, but it made me gag, and I pulled away violently, coughing again. His grip in my hair kept me from going far. “Please! Stop!” 

“Uh uh.” he wagged a finger. “Back on your knees. What do we say?” 

I glared at him. “Master may I please have a moment to compose myself?” 

“Very good.” he smiled, letting go of me and giving me a second to take a breath. Then he nodded. “Okay, River. Don't let too much time pass. Let's go again. This time, set a goal for yourself and try to achieve it. I know you can do it.” 

We kept on with this for another twenty minutes or so, me slowly discovering how far I could take him down and him being much more gentle than my previous trainer had been. After a little while, he uncuffed my hands and told me I could use them, so I did. He came, white shots of stringy, salty cum that he told me to drink down. That was the last thing I was about to do, so I got ten lashes from his strap for disobeying. I didn't care, it was better than swallowing his cum. 

After my whipping, he stood me up and held me in his arms for an agonizing ten minutes. He stroked my hair and kissed my face and refused to let me go. "You're being a very good girl today, River. Let's try to keep this up, okay?" 

Sobbing into his shirt, I nodded, too exhausted to fight.


	23. Chapter 23

Beckett

 

Cara ran her fingers through my hair for the millionth time that morning and laid her head on my shoulder. "Hand me my cup, sweetie?" 

I reached forward and grabbed her warm mug, handing it to her as she flipped the page of the book she'd been reading. Some "How To" book about slave training with a gentle hand. I was grateful for the approach. There was a small knock on the door frame, and we both looked up to see Ellie standing in the door way of the back porch. "Pardon, Mistress, but will the master and River be at lunch still?" 

Cara nodded. "As far as I know, but check with Logan." 

Ellie gave her a smile and then walked off. I couldn't hold back my grin, and Cara chuckled. "I know you're excited to see her." 

"And she doesn't know?"

"She has no idea." 

I bit my lip and cuddled in to her, trying to hide the fact that I wanted to practically jump for joy. 

 

River

 

Even I could see the evident progress we were making only a few weeks in, but I had my first real break down, post me giving in, with Logan on a Monday morning. 

We’d just finished breakfast, and I was watching Ryan clear the table while Logan went to the bathroom. But just as he reached for the paper, drawing my eye to the front page, I glimpsed at the date. 

At the center, it had been nearly impossible to keep track of time. There were no windows, I was drugged or in a haze from sleep deprivation or near starvation, and certainly dehydration. But here, it was pretty easy to keep count, even if I didn’t have a base line date to start with. Still… I hadn’t realized that… 

“River?” Logan frowned, zipping up his fly and watching Ryan exit the room and shut the door. Suddenly, I was startled out of my thoughts, realizing that I’d stayed put on my knees by the table, my eyes on the floor, my hands were shaking… “I told you to get my strap and lean over the bed. Why haven’t you moved?” 

Tears filled my eyes, and suddenly, I felt humiliated. 

He sighed. “Riv. Come on. It’s just five, and you know why you’re being-“ 

“It’s not that.” I interrupted him, knowing that would be six with a cane. 

But Logan was patient as ever. “Okay. Then what is it?” 

Swallowing, I looked up at him, the tears suddenly bursting forth, sobs racketing my body. “It’s been two and a half months.” 

He frowned, suddenly realizing where he thought this was going. Squatting down, he wrapped me in his arms. “Oh, sweetie. I know. It’s hard.” 

Trying to breathe, but struggling, I shook my head. “I always have it on time and now…” 

I felt him stiffen, and then his warmth on my cheek. “Oh. I see.” 

Sniffling and sitting back on my butt, I snuggled into his embrace. “I always wanted kids. Lots and lots of little kids and now… and now…” hiccups came forth, and I swear it was as embarrassing as it sounds. 

“Shh.” He whispered. “I know it’s not fun. To have that taken from you. Maybe your owners will have some little ones you can play with.” 

“But… but… but I wanted my own!” 

He sighed. "River, I'm really sorry." 

And I believed him. 

 

Beckett

 

I dried my hands on the hand towel and made my way to the dining room, kneeling on the pillow by Cara's chair, looking over excitedly at the one by Logan's. I get how depressing that sentence is. 

Cara entered the room, and I kept my head bowed until she walked over to me, stood there for a second, and then sat. 

"Beck, look at me." 

I obeyed. 

"River's having a rough day. She's upset about something and Logan is trying to soothe her." 

Frowning, I nodded. At least she was going to get to see me. That would cheer her-

"He's putting this off until tomorrow." 

"But-" 

"Beckett." her tone was full of warning. 

I closed my mouth and glared at the floor. 

"She cannot associate you with relief anymore. She has to learn to get over things in her new environment with new people. So when she's calmed down, you'll get to see each other. At our discretion." 

I could do this. I could stay silent. I could be good. Don't ruin it this late in the game, Beckett. So, nodding, I swallowed down my fury and put on a fake smile. "I understand, Mistress. I'm sorry for my outburst."

"You're forgiven, but that's going to be ten on the feet with the paddle." She told me in her business-like manner, turned toward the table, and began eating.


End file.
